Junmjlope} 

Ethel  Huesion 


cgrHisr~ 

"'l-BOOK 
BELONGS  TO 


I 
SUNNY  SLOPES 


'A  minister's  wife!     You  look  more  like  a  little  girl's  baby  doll" 


SUNNY    SLOPES 


By 
ETHEL  HUESTON 

Author  of 

PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE, 

PRUDENCE  SAYS  SO.  ETC. 


ILLUSTRATED  BY 
ARTHUR  WILLIAM  BROWN 


INDIANAPOLIS 

THE  BOBBS-MERRILL  COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 


Copyright  1917 
The  Bobbs-Merrill  Company 


PRESS    OF 

BRAUNWORTH    &    CO. 

BOOK    MANUFACTURERS 

BROOKLYN.    N.    V. 


This  "Book 

Is  Written  in  ^Memory  ofzMy  Husband 

Eager  in  Service,  Tatient  in  Illness 

Unfaltering  in  Death,  and 

Is  Dedicated  to 

The  St.  jQouis  Presbytery 

To  Which  I  Owe  a  Debt  of  Interest 

Of  Sympathy  and  of  Unfailing  Friendship 

I  Can  V^eyer  Hope  to  Tay 


■M578847 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I  The  Beginning 1 

II   Mansers 7 

III  A  Baby  in  Business 17 

IV  A  Woman  in  the  Church 33 

V  A  Minister's  Son 46 

VI   The  Heavy  Yoke 72 

VII   The  First   Step 88 

VIII   Reaction 93 

IX   Upheaval 107 

X  Where  Health  Begins 126 

XI   The  Old  Teacher 139 

XII   The  Land  o'  Lungers 153 

XIII  Old  Hopes  and  New 168 

XIV  Neptune's  Second  Daughter 176 

XV   The  Second  Step 189 

XVI   Departed  Spirits 193 

XVII   Rubbing  Elbows 227 

XVIII   Quiescent 244 

XIX   Re-creation 264 

XX   Literary   Material 290 

XXI   Adventuring 319 

XXII   Harborage 338 

XXIII  The  Sunny  Slope 348 

XXIV  The  End 353 


SUNNY  SLOPES 


SUNNY  SLOPES 

CHAPTER  I 
The  Beginning 

BACK  and  forth,  back  and  forth,  over  the 
net,  spun  the  little  white  ball,  driven  by 
the  quick,  sure  strokes  of  the  players.  There  was 
no  sound  save  the  bounding  of  the  ball  against 
the  racquets,  and  the  thud  of  rubber  soles  on  the 
hard  ground.  Then — a  sudden  twirl  of  a  supple 
wrist,  and — 

"Deuce !"  cried  the  girl,  triumphantly  brand- 
ishing her  racquet  in  the  air. 

The  man  on  the  other  side  of  the  net  laughed 
as  he  gathered  up  the  balls  for  a  new  serve. 

Back  and  forth,  back  and  forth,  once  more, — 
close  to  the  net,  away  back  to  the  line,  now  to  the 
right,  now  to  the  left, — and  then — 

1 


2  SUNNY  SLOPES 

"Ad  out,  I  am  beating  you,  David,"  warned 
the  girl,  leaping  lightly  into  the  air  to  catch  the 
ball  he  tossed  her. 

"Here  is  a  beauty,"  she  said,  as  the  ball  spun 
away  from  her  racquet. 

The  two  white-clad,  nimble  figures  flashed  from 
side  to  side  of  the  court.  He  sprang  into  the  air  to 
meet  her  ball,  and  drove  it  into  the  farthest  cor- 
ner, but  she  caught  it  with  a  backward  gesture. 
Still  he  was  ready  for  it,  cutting  it  low  across 
the  net, — yes,  she  was  there,  she  got  it, — but  the 
stroke  was  hard, — and  the  ball  was  light. 

"Was  it  good?"  she  gasped,  clasping  the  rac- 
quet in  both  hands  and  tilting  dangerously  for- 
ward on  tiptoe  to  look. 

"Good  enough, — and  your  game." 

With  one  accord  they  ran  forward  to  the  net, 
pausing  a  second  to  glance  about  enquiringly, 
and  then,  one  impulse  guiding,  kissed  each  other 
ecstatically. 

"The  very  first  time  I  have  beaten  you, 
David,"  exulted  the  girl.    "Isn't  everything  glo- 


THE  BEGINNING  3 

rious?"  she  demanded,  with  all  of  youth's  en- 
thusiasm. 

"Just  glorious,"  came  the  ready  answer,  with 
all  of  mature  manhood's  response  to  girlish 
youth.  Clasping  the  slender  hands  more  tightly, 
he  added,  laughing,  "And  I  kiss  the  fingers  that 
defeated  me." 

"Oh,  David,"  the  buoyant  voice  dropped  to  a 
reverent  whisper.  "I  love  you, — I  love  you, — I — 
I  am  just  crazy  about  you." 

"Careful,  Carol,  remember  the  manse,"  he 
cautioned  gaily. 

"But  this  is  honeymooning,  and  the  manse 
hasn't  gloomed  on  my  horizon  yet.  I'll  be  care- 
ful when  I  get  installed.  I  am  really  a  Methodist 
yet,  and  Methodists  are  expected  to  shout  and 
be  enthusiastic.  When  we  move  into  our  manse, 
and  the  honeymoon  is  ended,  I'll  just  say,  'I  am 
very  fond  of  you,  Mr.  Duke.' "  The  voice 
lengthened  into  prim  and  prosy  solemnity. 

"But  our  honeymoon  isn't  to  end.  Didn't  we 
promise  that  it  should  last  forever?" 


4  SUNNY  SLOPES 

"Of  course  it  will."  She  dimpled  up  at  him, 
snuggling  herself  in  the  arm  that  still  encircled 
her  shoulders.  "Of  course  it  will."  She  balanced 
her  racquet  on  the  top  of  his  head  as  he  bent 
adoringly  over  her.  "Of  course  it  will, — unless 
your  grim  old  Presbyterians  manse  all  the  life 
out  of  me." 

"If  it  ever  begins,  tell  me,"  he  begged,  "and 
we'll  join  the  Salvation  Army.  There's  life 
enough  even  for  you." 

"I  beat  you,"  she  teased,  irrelevantly.  "I  am 
surprised, — a  great  big  man  like  you." 

"And  to-morrow  we'll  be  in  St.  Louis." 

"Yes,"  she  assented,  weakening  swiftly.  "And 
the  mansers  will  have  me  in  their  deadly  clutch." 

"The  only  manser  who  will  clutch  you  is  my- 
self." He  drew  her  closer  in  his  arm  as  he  spoke. 
"And  you  like  it." 

"Yes,  I  love  it.  And  I  like  the  mansers  al- 
ready. I  hope  they  like  me.  I  am  improving, 
you  know.  I  am  getting  more  dignified  every 
day.   Maybe  they  will  think  I  am  a  born  Presby- 


THE  BEGINNING  5 

terian  if  you  don't  give  me  away.  Have  you 
noticed  how  serious  I  am  getting?"  She  pinched 
thoughtfully  at  his  chin.  "David  Duke,  we  have 
been  married  two  whole  weeks,  and  it  is  the  most 
delicious,  and  breathless,  and  amazing  thing  in 
the  world.  It  is  life — real  life — all  there  is  to 
life,  really,  isn't  it?" 

"Yes,  life  is  love,  they  say,  so  this  is  life.  All 
the  future  must  be  like  this." 

"I  never  particularly  yearned  to  be  dead,"  she 
said,  wrinkling  her  brows  thoughtfully,  "but  I 
never  even  dreamed  that  I  could  be  so  happy.  I 
am  awfully  glad  I  didn't  die  before  I  found  it 
out." 

"You  are  happy,  aren't  you,  sweetheart?" 

She  turned  herself  slowly  in  his  arm  and 
lifted  puckering  lips  to  his. 

"Hey,  wake  up,  are  you  playing  tennis,  or 
staging  Shakespeare?  We  want  the  court  if  you 
don't  need  it." 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Duke,  honeymooners,  gazed 
speechlessly  at  the  group  of  young  men  stand' 


6  SUNNY  SLOPES 

ing  motionless  forty  feet  away,  then  Carol 
wheeled  about  and  ran  swiftly  across  the  velvety 
grass,  over  the  hill  and  out  of  sight,  her  husband 
in  close  pursuit. 

Once  she  paused. 

"If  the  mansers  could  have  seen  us  then  I"  she 
ejaculated,  with  awe  in  her  voice. 


CHAPTER  II 

Mansers 

THE  introduction  of  Mrs.  David  Arnold 
Duke,  nee  Methodist,  to  the  members  of 
her  husband's  Presbyterian  flock,  was,  for  the 
most  part,  consummated  with  grace  and  dignity. 
Only  one  untoward  incident  lingered  in  her  mem- 
ory to  cloud  her  lovely  face  with  annoyance. 

In  honor  of  his  very  first  honeymoon,  hence 
his  first  opportunity  to  escort  a  beautiful  and 
blushing  bride  to  the  cozy  little  manse  he  had  so 
painstakingly  prepared  for  her  reception,  the 
Reverend  David  indulged  in  the  unwonted  luxury 
of  a  taxicab.  And  happy  in  the  consciousness  of 
being  absolutely  correct  as  to  detail,  they  were 
driven  slowly  down  the  beautifully  shaded  ave- 
nues of  the  Heights,  one  of  the  many  charming 

7 


8  SUNNY  SLOPES 

suburbs  of  St.  Louis, — aware  of  the  scrutiny  of 
interested  eyes  from  the  sheltering  curtains  of 
many  windows. 

Being  born  and  bred  in  the  ministry,  Carol 
acquitted  herself  properly  before  the  public  eye. 
But  once  inside  the  guarding  doors  of  the  dar- 
ling manse,  secure  from  the  condemning  witness 
of  even  the  least  of  the  fold,  she  danced  and 
sang  and  exulted  as  the  very  young,  and  very 
glad,  must  do  to  find  expression. 

Their  first  dinner  in  the  manse  was  more  of  a 
social  triumph  than  a  culinary  success.  The  cof- 
fee was  nectar,  though  a  trifle  overboiled.  The 
gravy  was  sweet  as  honey,  but  rather  inclined  to 
be  lumpy.  And  the  steak  tasted  like  fried  chick- 
en, though  Carol  had  peppered  it  twice  and  salted 
it  not  at  all.  It  wasn't  her  fault,  however,  for 
the  salt  and  pepper  shakers  in  her  "perfectly  irre- 
sistible"  kitchen  cabinet  were  exactly  alike, — 
and  how  was  she  to  know  she  was  getting  the 
same  one  twice? 

Anyhow,  although  they  started  very  properly 


MANSERS  9 

with  plates  on  opposite  sides  of  the  round  table, 
by  the  time  they  reached  dessert  their  chairs  were 
just  half  way  round  from  where  they  began  the 
meal,  and  the  salad  dishes  were  so  clqse  together 
that  half  the  time  they  ate  from  one  and  half 
the  time  from  the  other.  And  when  it  was  all 
over,  they  pushed  the  dishes  back  and  clasped 
their  hands  promiscuously  together  and  talked 
with  youthful  passion  of  what  they  were  going 
to  do,  and  how  wonderful  their  opportunity  for 
service  was,  and  what  revolutions  they  were  go- 
ing to  work  in  the  lives  of  the  nice,  but  no  doubt 
prosy  mansers,  and  how  desperately  they  loved 
each  other.  And  it  was  going  to  last  forever  and 
ever  and  ever. 

So  far  they  were  just  Everybride  and  Every- 
groom.  Their  hearts  sang  and  the  manse  was 
more  gorgeous  than  any  mansion  on  earth,  and  all 
the  world  was  good  and  sweet,  and  they  couldn't 
possibly  ever  make  any  kind  of  a  mistake  or 
blunder,  for  love  was  guiding  them, — and  could 
pure  love  lead  astray? 


10  SUNNY  SLOPES 

David  at  last  looked  at  his  watch  and  said, 
rather  hurriedly  : 

"By  the  way,  I  imagine  a  few  of  our  young 
people  will  drop  in  to-night  for  a  first  smile  from 
the  manse  lady." 

Carol  leaped  from  her  chair,  jerked  off  the  big 
kitchen  apron,  and  flew  up  the  stairs  with  never 
a  word.  When  David  followed  more  slowly,  he 
found  her  already  painstakingly  dusting  her 
matchless  skin  with  velvety  powder. 

"I  got  a  brand  new  box  of  powder,  David,  the 
very  last  thing  I  did,"  she  began,  as  he  entered 
the  room.  "When  this  is  gone,  I'll  resort  to 
cheaper  kinds.  You  see,  father's  had  such  a  lot 
of  experience  with  girls  and  complexions  that  he 
just  naturally  expects  them  to  be  expensive — and 
would  very  likely  be  confused  and  hurt  if  things 
were  changed.  But  I  can  imagine  what  a  shock 
it  would  be  to  you  right  at  the  start." 

David  assured  her  that  any  powder  which 
added  to  the  wonder  of  that  most  wonderful 


MANSERS  11 

complexion  was  well  worth  any  price.   But  Carol 
shook  her  head  sagely. 

"It's  a  dollar  a  box,  my  dear,  and  very  tiny 
boxes  at  that.  Now  don't  talk  any  more  for  I 
must  fix  my  hair  and  dress,  and — I  want  to  look 
perfectly  darling  or  they  won't  like  me,  and  then 
they  will  not  put  anything  in  the  collections  and 
the  heathens  and  we  will  starve  together.  Oh, 
will  you  buckle  my  slippers?  Thanks.  Here's 
half  a  kiss  for  your  kindness.  Oh,  David,  dear, 
do  run  along  and  don't  bother  me,  for  suppose 
some  one  should  get  here  before  I  am  all  fixed, 
and—  Shall  I  wear  this  little  gray  thing?  It 
makes  me  look  very,  very  sensible,  you  know, 
and — er — well,  pretty,  too.  One  can  be  pretty  as 
well  as  sensible,  and  I  think  it's  a  Christian  duty 
to  do  it.  David,  I  shall  never  be  ready.  I  can 
not  be  talked  to,  and  make  myself  beautiful  all  at 
once.  Dear,  please  go  and  say  your  prayers,  and 
ask  God  to  make  them  love  me,  will  you?  For 
it  is  very  important,  and —  If  I  act  old,  and  dig- 
nified, they  will  think  I  am  appropriate  at  least, 


12  SUNNY  SLOPES 

won't  they?  Oh,  this  horrible  dress,  I  never  can 
reach  the  hooks.  Will  you  try,  David,  there's  my 
nice  old  boy.  Oh,  are  you  going  down?  Well, 
I  suppose  one  of  us  ought  to  be  ready  for  them, 
—  run  along, —  it's  lonesome  without  you, — 
but  I  have  to  powder  my  face,  and —  Oh,  that 
was  just  the  preliminary.  The  conclusion  is  al- 
ways the  same.  Bye,  dearest."  Then,  solemnly, 
to  her  mirror,  she  said,  "Isn't  he  the  blessedest 
old  thing  that  ever  was?  My,  I  am  glad  Pru- 
dence got  married  so  long  ago,  or  he  might  have 
wanted  her  instead  of  me.  I  don't  suppose  the 
mansers  could  possibly  object  to  a  complexion 
like  mine.  I  can  get  a  certificate  from  father  to 
prove  it  is  genuine,  if  they  don't  believe  it." 

Then  she  gave  her  full  attention  to  tucking  up 

tiny,  straying  curls  with  invisible  hair  pins,  and 

was  quite  startled  when  David  called  suddenly: 

"Hurry  up,  Carol,  I  am  waiting  for  you." 

"Oh,  bless  its  heart,  I  forgot  all  about  it.     I 

am  coming." 


MANSERS  13 

Gaily  she  ran  down  the  stairs,  parted  the  cur- 
tains into  the  living-room  and  said: 

"Why  are  you  sitting  in  the  dark,  David? 
Headache,  or  just  plain  sentimental?  Where 
are  you  ?" 

"Over  here,"  he  said,  in  a  curious,  quiet  voice. 

She  groped  her  way  into  the  center  of  the 
room  and  clutched  his  arms.  "David,"  she  said, 
laughing  a  little  nervously,  "here  goes  the  last 
gasp  of  my  dear  old  Methodist  fervor." 

"Why,  Carol — "  he  interrupted. 

"Just  a  minute,  honey.  After  this  I  am  going 
to  be  settled  and  solemn  and  when  I  feel  perfect- 
ly glorious  I'll  just  say,  'Very  good,  thank  you/ 
and—" 

"But,  Carol—" 

"Yes,  dear,  just  a  second.  This  is  my  final 
gasp,  my  last  explosion,  my  dying  outburst. 
Rah,  rah,  rah,  David.  Three  cheers  and  a  tiger. 
Amen!  Hallelujah!  Hurrah!  Down  with  the 
traitor,  up  with  the  stars !  Now  it's  all  over.  I 
am  a  Presbyterian." 


14  SUNNY  SLOPES 

David's  burst  of  laughter  was  echoed  on  e very- 
side  of  the  room  and  the  lights  were  switched 
on,  and  with  a  sickening  weakness  Carol  faced 
the  young  people  of  her  husband's  church. 

"More  Presbyterians,  dear,  a  whole  houseful 
of  them.  They  wanted  to  surprise  you,  but  you 
have  turned  the  tables  on  them.  This  is  my  wife, 
Mrs.  Duke." 

Slowly  Carol  rallied.  She  smiled  the  irresist- 
ible smile. 

"I  am  so  glad  to  meet  you,"  she  said,  softly, 
"I  know  we  are  going  to  like  each  other.  Aren't 
you  glad  you  got  here  in  time  to  see  me  become 
Presbyterian?  David,  why  didn't  you  warn  me 
that  surprise  parties  were  still  stylish  ?  I  thought 
they  had  gone  out." 

Carol  watched  very,  very  closely  all  that  even- 
ing, and  she  could  not  see  one  particle  of  differ- 
ence between  these  mansers  and  the  young  folks 
in  the  Methodist  Church  in  Mount  Mark,  Iowa. 
They  told  funny  stories,  and  laughed  immoder- 
ately at  them.     The  young  men  gave  the  latest 


MANSERS  15 

demonstrations  of  vaudeville  trickery,  and  the 
girls  applauded  as  warmly  as  if  they  had  not 
seen  the  same  bits  performed  in  the  original. 
They  asked  David  if  they  might  dance  in  the 
kitchen,  and  David  smilingly  begged  them  to 
spare  his  manse  the  disgrace,  and  to  dance  them- 
selves home  if  they  couldn't  be  more  restrained. 
The  young  men  put  in  an  application  for  Mrs. 
Duke  as  teacher  of  the  Young  Men's  Bible  Class, 
and  David  sternly  vetoed  the  measure.  The 
young  ladies  asked  Carol  what  kind  of  powder 
she  used,  and  however  she  got  her  hair  up  in 
that  most  marvelous  manner. 

And  Carol  decided  it  was  not  going  to  be  such 
i 
a   burden   after   all,    and   thought   perhaps   she 

might  make  a  regular  pillar  in  time. 

When,  as  she  later  met  the  elder  ones  of  the 
church,  and  was  invariably  greeted  with  a  smil- 
ing, "How  is  our  little  Methodist  to-day,"  she 
bitterly  swallowed  her  grief  and  answered  with 
a  brightness  all  assumed : 

"Turned  Presbyterian,  thank  you." 


16  SUNNY  SLOPES 

But  to  David  she  said : 

"I  did  seriously  and  religiously  ask  the  Lord 
to  let  me  get  introduced  to  the  mansers  without 
disgracing  myself,  and  I  am  just  a  teeny  bit 
disappointed  because  He  went  back  on  me  in 
such  a  crisis." 

But  David,  wise  minister  and  able  exponent  of 
his  faith,  said  quickly : 

"He  didn't  go  back  on  you,  Carol.  It  was  the 
best  kind  of  an  introduction,  and  He  stood  by 
you  right  through.  They  were  more  afraid  of 
you  than  you  were  of  them.  You  might  have 
been  stiff  and  reserved,  and  they  would  have 
been  cold  and  self-conscious,  and  it  would  have 
been  ghastly  for  every  one.  But  your  break  broke 
the  ice  right  off.    You  were  perfectly  natural." 

"Hum, —  yes  —  natural  enough,  I  suppose. 
But  it  wasn't  dignified,  and  why  do  you  suppose 
I  have  been  practising  dignity  these  last  ten 
years  ?" 


"D 


CHAPTER  III 

A  Baby  In  Business 

"Centerville,  Iowa. 
EAR  Carol  and  David — 
"Please  do  not  call  me  the  baby  of  the 
family  any  more.  I  am  in  business,  and  babies 
have  no  business  in  business.  Very  good,  wasn't 
it?  I  am  practising  verbosity  for  the  book  I 
am  going  to  write  some  day.  Verbosity  is  what 
I  want  to  say,  isn't  it  ?  I  am  never  sure  whether 
it  is  that  or  obesity.  But  you  know  what  I  mean. 
"To  begin  at  the  beginning,  then,  you  would 
be  surprised  how  sensible  father  is  turning  out. 
I  can  hardly  understand  it.  You  remember  when 
I  insisted  on  studying  stenography,  Aunt  Grace 
and  Prue,  yes,  and  all  the  rest  of  you,  were 
properly  shocked  and  horrified,  and  thought  I 
ought  to  teach  school  because  it  is  more  minis- 

17 


18  SUNNY  SLOPES 

terial.  But  I  knew  I  should  need  the  stenography 
in  my  writing,  and  father  looked  at  me,  and 
thought  a  while,  and  came  right  out  on  my  side. 
And  that  settled  it. 

"Of  course,  when  I  wanted  to  cut  college  after 
my  second  year  so  I  could  get  to  work,  father 
talked  me  out  of  it.  But  I  am  really  convinced 
he  was  right  that  time,  even  though  he  wasn't 
on  my  side.  But  after  I  finished  college,  when 
they  offered  me  the  English  Department  in  the 
High  School  in  Mount  Mark  at  seventy-five  per, 
and  when  I  insisted  on  coming  down  here  to 
Centerville  to  take  this  stenographic  job  with 
Messrs.  Nesbitt  and  Orchard,  at  eight  a  week, 
well,  the  serene  atmosphere  of  our  quiet  home 
was  decidedly  murky  for  a  while.  I  said  I  needed 
the  experience,  both  stenographic  and  literary, 
and  this  was  my  opportunity. 

"Aunt  Grace  was  speechless.  Prudence  wept 
over  me.  Fairy  laughed  at  me.  Lark  said  she 
just  wished  you  were  home  to  take  charge  of 
me   and  teach  me  a  few  things.     But   father 


A  BABY  IN  BUSINESS  19 

looked  at  me  again,  and  thought  very  seriously 
for  a  while,  and  said  he  believed  I  was  right. 

"Consequently,  I  am  at  Centerville. 

"Isn't  it  dear  of  father?  And  so  surprising. 
The  girls  think  he  needs  medical  attention,  and 
honestly  I  am  a  little  worried  over  him  myself. 
It  was  so  unexpected.  Really,  I  half  thought  he 
would  'put  his  foot  down/  as  the  Ladies  Aiders 
used  to  want  Prudence  to  do  with  us.  He  was 
always  resigned,  father  was,  about  giving  the 
girls  up  in  marriage,  but  every  one  always  said 
he  would  draw  the  line  there.  He  is  develop- 
ing, I  guess. 

"Do  you  remember  Nesbitt  and  Orchard  ?  Mr. 
Nesbitt  was  a  member  of  the  church  when  we 
lived  here,  but  it  was  before  I  was  born,  so  I 
don't  feel  especially  well  acquainted  on  that  ac- 
count. But  he  calls  me  Connie  and  acts  very 
fatherly. 

"He  is  still  a  member  of  the  church,  and  they 
say  around  town  that  he  is  not  a  bit  slicker  out- 
side the  church  than  he  was  when  father  was  his 


20  SUNNY  SLOPES 

pastor.  He  hurt  me  spiritually  at  first.  So  I 
wrote  to  father  about  it.  Father  wrote  back 
that  I  must  be  charitable — must  remember  that 
belonging  to  church  couldn't  possibly  do  Mr. 
Nesbitt  any  harm,  and  for  all  we  knew  to  the 
contrary,  might  be  keeping  him  out  of  the  electric 
chair  every  day  of  his  life.  And  Mr.  Nesbitt 
couldn't  do  the  Christians  any  harm — the  Lord 
is  looking  after  them.  And  those  outside  who 
point  to  the  hypocrites  inside  for  excuses  would 
have  to  think  up  something  new  and  original  if 
we  eliminated  the  hypocrites  on  their  account, — 
'so  be  generous,  Connie,'  wrote  father,  'and 
don't  begrudge  Mr.  Nesbitt  the  third  seat  to  the 
left  for  he  may  never  get  any  nearer  Paradise 
than  that/ 

"Father  is  just  splendid,  Carol.  I  keep  feeling 
that  the  rest  of  you  don't  realize  it  as  hard  as  I 
do,  but  you  will  laugh  at  that. 

"Mr.  Nesbitt  likes  me,  but  he  has — well,  he  has 
what  a  minister  should  call  a  'bad  disposition.' 
I'll  tell  you  more  about  it  in  German  when  I 


A  BABY  IN  BUSINESS  21 

meet  you.  German  is  the  only  language  I  know 
that  can  do  him  justice. 

"I  have  been  in  trouble  of  one  kind  or  another 
ever  since  I  got  here.  Mr.  Nesbitt  owns  a  lot 
of  houses  around  town,  and  we  have  charge  of 
their  rental.  One  day  he  gave  me  the  address 
of  one  of  his  most  tumble  down  shacks,  and 
promised  me  a  bonus  of  five  dollars  if  I  rented  it 
for  fifteen  dollars  a  month  on  a  year's  lease. 
About  ten  days  later,  sure  enough  I  rented  it, 
family  to  take  possession  immediately.  Mr. 
Nesbitt  was  out  of  town,  so  I  took  the  rent  in 
advance,  turned  over  the  keys,  and  proceeded 
to  spend  the  five  dollars.  I  learned  that  system 
of  frenzied  finance  from  you  twins  in  the  old 
days  in  the  parsonage. 

"Next  morning,  full  of  pride,  I  told  Mr.  Nesbitt 
about  it. 

"'Rented  800  Stout/  he  roared.  'Why,  I 
rented  it  myself, — a  three  years'  lease  at  eighteen 
a  month, — move  in  next  Monday.' 


22  SUNNY  SLOPES 

"  'Mercy,'  says  I.  'My  family  paid  a  month 
in  advance.' 

"  'So  did  mine.' 

"  'My  family  is  already  in/  says  I.  That  was 
a  clincher. 

"He  raved  and  he  roared,  and  said  I  got  them 
in  and  I  could  get  them  out.  But  when  he  grew 
rational  and  raised  my  bonus  to  ten  dollars,  I 
said  I  would  do  my  best.  He  agreed  to  refund 
the  month's  rent,  to  pay  the  moving  expenses  both 
in  and  out,  to  take  over  their  five  dollar  deposit 
for  electric  lights,  and  to  pay  the  electric  and  gas 
bill  outstanding,  which  wouldn't  be  much  for  two 
or  three  days. 

"So  off  marches  the  business  baby  to  the  con- 
flict. 

"They  didn't  like  it  a  bit,  and  talked  very 
crossly  indeed,  and  said  perfectly  horrible,  but 
quite  true,  things  about  Messrs.  Nesbitt  and 
Orchard.  But  finally  they  said  they  would  move 
out,  only  they  must  have  until  Friday  to  find  a 


A  BABY  IN  BUSINESS  23 

new  house.  They  would  move  out  on  Saturday, 
and  leave  the  keys  at  the  office. 

"Mr.  Nesbitt  was  much  pleased,  and  said  I  had 
done  nicely,  gave  me  the  ten  dollars  and  a  box 
of  chocolates  and  we  were  as  happy  as  cooing 
doves  the  rest  of  the  day.  ^ 

"But  my  family  must  have  been  more  indignant 
than  I  realized.  On  Saturday,  at  one  o'clock, 
Mr.  Nesbitt  told  me  to  go  around  by  the  house 
on  my  way  home  to  make  sure  the  front  door 
was  locked.  It  was  locked  all  right,  but  I  no- 
ticed that  the  electric  lights  were  burning.  Mr. 
Nesbitt  had  not  sent  the  key  with  me,  as  it  was 
an  automatic  lock,  and  it  really  was  none  of  my 
business  if  folks  moved  out  and  left  the  lights 
on.  Still  it  seemed  irregular,  and  when  I  got 
home  I  tried  to  get  Mr.  Nesbitt  on  the  phone. 
But  he  and  Mr.  Orchard  had  left  the  office 
and  gone  out  into  the  country  for  the  afternoon. 
Business, — they  never  go  to  the  country  for 
pleasure.  So  I  comfortably  forgot  all  about  the 
electric  lights. 


24  SUNNY  SLOPES 

"But  Monday  afternoon,  Mr.  Nesbitt  happened 
to  remark  that  his  family  would  not  move  in 
until  Wednesday.     Then  I  remembered. 

"I  said,  'What  is  the  idea  in  having  the  electric 
lights  burning  down  there  ?' 

"  'What  ?'  he  shouted.  He  always  shouts  un- 
less he  has  a  particular  reason  for  whispering. 

"  'Why,  the  electric  lights  were  burning  in  the 
house  when  I  went  by  Saturday/ 

"  'All  of  them  ?' 

"  'Looked  it  from  the  outside.' 

"  'Did  you  turn  them  off?' 

"  'I  should  say  not.  I  hadn't  the  key.  Besides 
I  didn't  turn  them  on.  I  didn't  know  who  did, 
nor  why.    I  just  left  them  alone.' 

"That  meant  a  neat  little  electric  bill  of  about 
six  dollars,  and  Mr.  Nesbitt  talked  to  me  in  a 
very  un-neutral  way,  and  I  got  my  hat  and 
walked  off  home.  He  called  me  up  after  a  while 
and  tried  to  make  peace,  but  I  said  I  was  ill  from 
the  nervous  shock  and  couldn't  work  any  more 
that  day.     So  he  sent  me  a  box  of  candy  to  re- 


A  BABY  IN  BUSINESS  25 

store  my  shattered  nerves,  and  the  next  day  they 
were  all  right. 

"One  day  I  got  rather  belligerent  myself.  It 
was  just  a  week  after  I  came.  One  of  his  new 
tenants  phoned  in  that  Nesbitt  must  get  the  rub- 
bish out  of  the  alley  back  of  his  house  or  he 
would  move  out.  Mr.  Nesbitt  tried  to  evade  a 
promise,  but  the  man  was  curt.  'You  get  that 
rubbish  out  to-day,  or  I  get  out  to-morrow.' 

"Mr.  Nesbitt  was  just  going  to  court,  so  he  told 
me  to  call  up  a  garbage  man  and  get  the  rubbish 
removed. 

"I  didn't  know  the  garbage  men  from  the  min- 
isters, and  they  weren't  classified  in  the  directory. 
So  I  went  to  Mr.  Orchard,  a  youngish  sort  of 
man,  very  pleasant,  but  slicker  than  Nesbitt  him- 
self. 

"I  said,  not  too  amiably,  'Who  are  the  garbage 
haulers  in  this  town  ?' 

"He  said :  'Search  me,'  and  went  on  writing. 

"I  dropped  the  directory  on  his  desk,  and  said, 


26  SUNNY  SLOPES 

"  'Well,  if  Mr.  Nesbitt  loses  a  good  tenant,  I 
should  worry/ 

"Then  he  looked  up  and  said:  'Oh,  let's  see. 
There's  Jim  Green,  and  Softy  Meadows,  and — 
and — Tully  Scott — and — that's  enough.' 

"So  I  called  them  up.  Jim  Green  was  in  jail 
for  petty  larceny.  Softy  Meadows  was  in  bed 
with  a  broken  leg.  Tully  Scott  would  do  it  for 
three  fifty.  So  I  gave  him  the  number  and  told 
him  to  do  it  that  afternoon  without  fail. 

"Pretty  soon  Mr.  Nesbitt  came  home.  'How 
about  that  rubbish?' 

"  T  got  Tully  Scott  to  do  it  for  three  fifty.' 

"He  fairly  tore  his  hair.  'Three  fifty!  Tully 
Scott  is  the  biggest  highway  robber  in  town,  and 
everybody  knows  it!  Why  didn't  you  get  the 
mayor  and  be  done  with  it  ?  Three  fifty !  Great 
Scott!  Three  fifty!  You  call  his  lordship  Tully 
Scott  up  and  ask  him  if  he'll  haul  that  rubbish 
for  a  dollar  and  a  half,  and  if  he  won't  you  can 
call  off  the  deal.' 

"I  called  him  up,  quietly,  but  inwardly  raging. 


A  BABY  IN  BUSINESS  27 

"  'Will  you  haul  that  rubbish  for  a  dollar  and  a 
half?' 

"  'No/  he  drawled  through  his  nose,  'I  won't 
haul  no  rubbish  for  no  dollar  and  a  half,  and  you 
can  tell  old  Skinflint  I  said  so/ 

"He  hung  up.  So  did  I. 

"'What  did  he  say?' 

"I  thought  the  nasal  inflection  made  it  more 
forceful,  sov  I  said,  'No,  I  won't  haul  no  rub- 
bish for  no  dollar  and  a  half,  and  you  can  tell 
old  Skinflint  I  said  so/ 

"Mr.  Orchard  laughed,  and  Mr.  Nesbitt  got  red. 

"  'Call  up  Ben  Moore  and  see  if  he  can  do  it/ 

"I  looked  him  straight  in  the  eye.  'Nothing 
doing/  I  said,  with  dignity.  'If  you  want  any 
more  garbage  haulers,  you  can  get  them/ 

"I  sat  down  to  the  typewriter.  Mr.  Orchard 
nearly  shut  himself  up  in  a  big  law  book  in  his 
effort  to  keep  from  meeting  anybody's  eye.  But 
Nesbitt  went  to  the  phone  and  called  Ben  Moore. 
Ben  Moore  had  a  four  days'  job  on  his  hands. 
Then  he  called  Jim  Green,  and  Softy  Meadows, 


28  SUNNY  SLOPES 

and  finally  in  despair  called  the  only  one  left. 
John  Knox, — nice  orthodox  name,  my  dear. 
John  Knox  would  do  it  for  the  modest  sum  of 
five  dollars,  and  not  a — well,  I'll  spare  you  the 
details,  but  he  wouldn't  do  it  for  a  cent  less. 
Nesbitt  raved,  and  Nesbitt  swore,  but  John 
Knox,  while  he  may  not  be  a  pillar  in  the  church, 
certainly  stood  like  a  rock.  Nesbitt  could  pay 
it  or  lose  his  tenant.    He  paid. 

"Mr.  Orchard  got  up  and  put  on  his  hat.  'Miss 
Connie  wants  some  flowers  and  some  candy  and 
an  ice-cream  soda,  my  boy,  and  I  want  some 
cigars,  and  a  coca  cola.  It's  on  you.  Will  you 
come  along  and  pay  the  bill,  or  will  you  give  us 
the  money  T 

"  'I  guess  it  will  be  cheaper  to  come  along/ 
said  Nesbitt,  looking  bashfully  at  me,  for  I  was 
very  haughty.  But  I  put  on  my  hat,  and  it  cost 
him  just  one  dollar  and  ninety  cents  to  square 
himself. 

"But  they  both  like  me.  In  fact,  Mr.  Orchard 
suggested  that  I  marry  him  so  old  Nesbitt  would 


A  BABY  IN  BUSINESS  29 

have  to  stop  roaring  at  me,  but  I  tell  him  hon- 
estly that  of  the  two  evils  I  prefer  the  roaring. 

"No,  Carol,  I  am  not  counting  on  marriage  in 
my  scheme  of  life.  Not  yet.  Sometimes  I  think 
perhaps  I  do  not  believe  in  it.  It  doesn't  work 
out  right.  There  is  always  something  wrong 
somewhere.  Look  at  Prudence  and  Jerry, — de- 
voted to  each  other  as  ever,  but  Jerry's  business 
takes  him  out  among  men  and  women,  into  the 
life  of  the  city.  And  Prudence's  business  keeps 
her  at  home  with  the  children.  He's  out,  and 
she's  in,  and  the  only  time  they  have  to  love  each 
other  is  in  the  evening, — and  then  Jerry  has 
clubs  and  meetings,  and  Prudence  is  always 
sleepy.  Look  at  Fairy  and  Gene.  He  is  always 
at  the  drug  store,  and  Fairy  has  nothing  but 
parties  and  clubs  and  silly  things  like  that  to 
think  about, — a  big,  grand  girl  like  Fairy.  And 
she  is  always  looking  covetously  at  other  wom- 
en's babies  and  visiting  orphans'  homes  to  see  if 
she  can  find  one  she  wants  to  adopt,  because  she 
hasn't  one  of  her  own.     Always  that  sorrow 


30  SUNNY  SLOPES 

behind  the  twinkle  in  her  eyes!  If  she  hadn't 
married,  she  wouldn't  want  a  baby.  Take  Larkie 
and  Jim.  Always  Larkie  was  healthy  at  home, 
strong,  and  full  of  life.  But  since  little  Violet 
came,  Lark  is  pale  and  weak,  and  has  no 
strength  at  all.  Aunt  Grace  is  staying  with  her 
now.  Why,  I  can't  look  at  dear  old  Larkie 
without  half  crying. 

"Take  even  you,  my  precious  Carol,  perfectly 
happy,  oh,  of  course,  but  all  your  originality, 
your  uniqueness,  the  very  you-ness  of  you,  will 
be  absorbed  in  a  round  of  missionary  meetings, 
and  prayer-meetings,  and  choir  practises,  and 
Sunday-school  classes.  The  hard  routine,  my 
dear,  will  take  the  sparkle  from  you,  and  give 
you  a  sweet,  but  un-Carol-like  precision  and 
method.  Oh,  yes,  you  are  happy,  but  thank  you, 
dear,  I  think  I'll  keep  my  Self  and  do  my  work, 
and — be  an  old  maid. 

"Mr.  Orchard  offers  himself  as  an  alternative 
to  the  roars  every  now  and  then,  and  I  expound 
this  philosophy  of  mine  in  answer.     He  shouts 


A  BABY  IN  BUSINESS  31 

with  laughter  at  it.  He  says  it  is  so,  so  like  a 
baby  in  business.  He  reminds  me  of  the  time 
when  gray  hairs  and  crow's-feet  will  mar  my 
serenity,  and  when  solitary  old  age  will  take  the 
lightness  from  my  step.  But  I've  never  noticed 
that  husbands  have  a  way  of  banishing  gray  hairs 
and  crow's-feet  and  feeble  knees,  have  you?  Ba- 
bies are  nice,  of  course,  but  I  think  I'll  baby 
myself  a  little. 

"I  do  get  so  homesick  for  the  good  old  parson- 
age days,  and  all  the  bunch,  and —  Still,  it  is  nice 
to  be  a  baby  in  business,  and  think  how  wonder- 
ful it  will  be  when  I  graduate  from  my  baby- 
hood, and  have  brains  enough  to  write  books, 
big  books,  good  books,  for  all  the  world  to  read. 

"Lovingly  as  always, 

"Baby  Con." 

When  Carol  read  that  letter  she  cried,  and 
rubbed  her  face  against  her  husband's  shoulder, — 
regardless  of  the  dollar  powder  on  his  black  coat. 

"A  teeny  bit  for  father,"  she  explained,  "for 


32  SUNNY  SLOPES 

all  his  girls  are  gone.  And  a  little  bit  for  Fairy, 
but  she  has  Gene.  And  quite  a  lot  for  Larkie, 
but  she  has  Jim  and  Violet."  And  then,  clasping 
her  arm  about  his  shoulders,  which,  despite  her 
teasing  remonstrance,  he  allowed  to  droop  a  lit- 
tle, she  cried  exultantly :  "But  not  one  bit  for  me, 
for  I  have  you,  and  Connie  is  a  poor,  poverty- 
stricken,  wretched  little  waif,  with  nothing  in 
the  world  worth  having,  only  she  doesn't  know 
it  yet." 


CHAPTER  IV 
A  Woman  in  the  Church 

AND  there  was  a  woman  in  the  church. 
There  always  is, — one  who  stands  apart, 
distinct,   different, — in  the   community  but  not 
with  it,  in  the  church  but  not  of  it. 

The  woman  in  David's  church  was  of  a  lan- 
guorous, sumptuous  type,  built  on  generous  pro- 
portions, with  a  mass  of  dark  hair  waving  low 
on  her  forehead,  with  dark,  straight-gazing, 
deep-searching  eyes,  the  kind  that  impel  and  hold 
all  truanting  glances.  She  was  slow  in  move- 
ment, suggesting  a  beautiful  and  commendable 
laziness.  In  public  she  talked  very  little,  laugh- 
ing never,  but  often  smiling, — a  curious  smile 
that  curved  one  corner  of  her  lip  and  drew  down 
the  tip  of  one  eye.  She  had  been  married,  but 
no  one  knew  anything  about  her  husband.     She 

33 


34  SUNNY  SLOPES 

was  a  member  of  the  church,  attended  with  most 
scrupulous  regularity,  assisted  generously  in  a 
financial  way,  was  on  good  terms  with  every  one, 
and  had  not  one  friend  in  the  congregation.  The 
women  were  afraid  of  her.  So  were  the  men. 
But  for  different  reasons. 

Those  who  would  ask  questions  of  her,  ran 
directly  against  the  concrete  wall  of  the  crooked 
smile,  and  turned  away  abashed,  unsatisfied. 

Carol  was  very  shy  with  her.  She  was  not 
used  to  the  type.  There  had  been  women  in  her 
father's  churches,  but  they  had  been  of  different 
kinds.  Mrs.  Waldemar's  straight-staring  eyes 
embarrassed  her.  She  listened  silently  when  the 
other  women  talked  of  her,  half  admiringly,  half 
sneeringly,  and  she  grew  more  timid.  She 
watched  her  fascinated  in  church,  on  the  street, 
whenever  they  were  thrown  together.  But  one 
deep  look  from  the  dark  eyes  set  her  a-flush  and 
rendered  her  tongue-tied. 

Mrs.  Waldemar  had  paid  scant  attention  to 
David  before  the  advent  of  Carol,  except  to  fol- 


A  WOMAN  IN  THE  CHURCH       35 

low  his  movements  with  her  eyes  in  a  way  of 
which  he  could  not  remain  unconscious.  But 
when  Carol  came,  entered  the  demon  of  mis- 
chief. Carol  was  young,  Mrs.  Waldemar  was 
forty.  Carol  was  lovely,  Mrs.  Waldemar  was 
only  unusual.  Carol  was  frank  as  the  sunshine, 
Mrs.  Waldemar  was  mysterious.  What  woman 
on  earth  but  might  wonder  if  the  devoted  groom 
were  immune  to  luring  eyes,  and  if  that  lovely 
bride  were  jealous? 

So  she  talked  to  him  after  church.  She  called 
him  on  the  telephone  for  directions  in  the  Bible 
study  she  was  taking  up.  She  lounged  in  her 
hammock  as  he  returned  home  from  pastoral 
calls,  and  stopped  him  for  little  chats.  David  was 
her  pastor,  she  was  one  of  his  flock. 

But  Carol  screwed  up  her  face  before  the 
mirror  and  frowned. 

"David,"  she  said  to  herself,  when  a  glance 
from  her  window  revealed  David  leaning  over 
Mrs.  Waldemar's  hammock  half  a  block  away, 
doubtless  in  the  scriptural  act  of  explaining  an 


36  SUNNY  SLOPES 

intricate  passage  of  Revelation  to  the  dark-eyed 
sheep, — "David  is  as  good  as  an  angel,  and  as 
innocent  as  a  baby.  Two  very  good  traits  of 
course,  but  dangerous,  tre-men-dous-ly  danger- 
ous. Goodness  and  innocence  make  men  wax  in 
women's  hands."  Carol,  for  all  her  youth,  had 
acquired  considerable  shrewdness  in  her  life- 
time acquaintance  with  the  intricacies  of  parson- 
age life. 

She  looked  from  her  window  again.  "There's 
the — the — the  dark-eyed  Jezebel."  She  glanced 
fearfully  about,  to  see  if  David  might  be  near 
enough  to  hear  the  word.  What  on  earth  would 
he  think  of  the  manse  lady  calling  one  of  his 
sheep  a  Jezebel?  "Well,  David,"  she  said  to 
herself  decidedly,  "God  gave  you  a  wife  for 
some  purpose,  and  I'm  slick  if  I  haven't  much 
brains."  And  she  shook  a  slender  fist  at  her 
image  in  the  mirror  and  went  back  to  setting  the 
table. 

David  was  talkative  that  evening.  "You 
haven't  seen  much  of  Mrs.  WaMemax,  have  you, 


A  WOMAN  IN  THE  CHURCH       37 

dear?  People  here  don't  think  much  of  her. 
She  is  very  advanced, — too  advanced,  of  course. 
But  she  is  very  broad,  and  kind.  She  is  well 
educated,  too,  and  for  one  who  has  had  no  train- 
ing, she  grasps  Bible  truths  in  a  most  remark- 
able way.  She  has  never  had  the  proper  guid- 
ance, that's  the  worst  of  it.  With  a  little  wise 
direction  she  will  be  a  great  addition  to  our 
church  and  a  big  help  in  many  ways." 

Carol  lowered  her  lashes  reflectively.  She  was 
wondering  how  much  of  this  "wise  direction" 
was  going  to  fall  to  her  precious  David? 

"I  imagine  our  women  are  a  little  jealous  of 
her,  and  that  blinds  them  to  her  many  fine  qual- 
ities." 

Carol  agreed,  with  a  certain  lack  of  enthusi- 
asm, and  David  continued  with  evident  relish. 

"Some  of  her  ideas  are  dangerous,  but  when 
she  is  shown  the  weakness  of  her  position  she 
will  change.  She  is  not  one  of  that  narrow 
school  who  holds  to  a  fallacy  just  because  she 
accepted  it  in  the  beginning.  The  elders  objected 


38  SUNNY  SLOPES 

to  her  teaching  a  class  in  Sunday-school  because 
they  claimed  her  opinions  would  prove  menacing 
to  the  young  and  uninformed.  And  it  is  true. 
She  is  dangerous  company  for  the  young  right 
now.  But  she  is  starting  out  along  better  lines 
and  I  think  will  be  a  different  woman." 

"Dangerous  for  the  young."  The  words  re- 
peated themselves  in  Carol's  mind.  "Dangerous 
for  the  young."  Carol  was  young  herself. 
"Dangerous  for  the  young." 

The  next  afternoon,  Carol  arrayed  herself  in 
her  most  girlishly  charming  gown,  and  with  a 
smile  on  her  lips,  and  trepidation  in  her  heart, 
she  marched  off  to  call  on  her  Jezebel.  The 
Jezebel  was  surprised,  no  doubt  of  that.  And 
she  was  pleased.  Every  one  liked  Carol, — even 
Jezebels.  And  Mrs.  Waldemar  was  very  much 
alone.  However  much  a  woman  may  revel  in 
the  admiration  of  men,  there  are  times  when 
she  craves  the  confidence  of  at  least  one  woman. 
Mrs.  Waldemar  led  Carol  up-stairs  to  a  most 
seductively    attractive    little    sitting-room,    and 


A  WOMAN  IN  THE  CHURCH       39 

Carol  sat  at  her  feet,  as  it  were,  for  two  full 
hours. 

Then  she  tripped  away  home,  more  than  ever 
aware  of  the  wonderful  charm  of  Mrs.  Walde- 
mar,  but  thanking  God  she  was  young. 

When  David  came  in  to  dinner,  a  radiant 
Carol  awaited  him.  In  the  ruffly  white  dress, 
with  its  baby  blue  ribbons,  and  with  a  wide  band 
of  the  same  color  in  her  hair,  and  tiny  curls  clus- 
tering about  her  pink  ears,  she  was  a  very  infant 
of  a  minister's  wife. 

David  took  her  in  his  arms  appreciatively. 
"You  little  baby,"  he  said  adoringly,  "you  look 
younger  every  day.  Will  you  ever  grow  up  ?  A 
minister's  wife !  You  look  more  like  a  little  girl's 
baby  doll." 

Carol  giggled,  and  rumpled  up  his  hair.  When 
she  took  her  place  at  the  table  she  artfully  snug- 
gled low  in  her  chair,  peeping  roguishly  at  him 
from  behind  the  wedding-present  coffee  urn. 

"David,"  she  began,  as  soon  as  he  finished  the 
blessing,  "I've  been  thinking  all  day  of  what  you 


40  SUNNY  SLOPES 

said  about  Mrs.  Waldemar,  and  I've  been 
ashamed  of  myself.  I  really  have  avoided  her. 
She  is  so  old,  and  clever,  and  I  am  such  a  goose, 
and  people  said  things  about  her,  and — but  after 
last  night  I  was  ashamed.  So  to-day  I  went  to 
see  her,  all  alone  by  myself,  without  a  gun  or 
anything  to  protect  me." 

David  laughed,  nodding  at  her  approvingly. 
"Good  for  you,  Carol/'  he  cried  in  approbation. 
"That  was  fine.    How  did  you  get  along?" 

"Just  grand.  And  isn't  she  interesting?  And 
so  kind.  I  believe  she  likes  me.  She  kept  me  a 
long  time  and  made  me  a  cup  of  tea,  and  begged 
me  to  come  again.  She  nearly  hypnotized  me,  I 
am  really  infatuated  with  her.  Oh,  we  had  a 
lovely  time.  She  is  different  from  us,  but  it 
does  us  good  to  mix  with  other  kinds,  don't 
you  think  so  ?  I  believe  she  did  me  good.  I  feel 
very  emancipated  to-night." 

Carol  tossed  her  blue-ribboned,  curly  head,  and 
the  warm  approval  in  David's  eyes  cooled  a 
little. 


A  WOMAN  IN  THE  CHURCH       41 

"What  did  she  have  to  say?"  he  asked  curi- 
ously. 

"Oh,  she  talked  a  lot  about  being  broad,  and 
generous,  and  not  allowing  environment  to  dwarf 
one.  She  thinks  it  is  a  shame  for  a — a — girl  of 
my — well,  she  called  it  my  'divine  sparkle/  and 
she  said  it  was  a  compliment, — anyhow,  she  said 
it  was  a  shame  I  should  be  confined  to  a  little 
half-souled  bunch  of  Presbyterians  in  the 
Heights.  She  has  a  lot  of  friends  down-town, 
advanced  thinkers,  she  calls  them, — a  poet,  and 
some  authors,  and  artists,  and  musicians, — folks 
like  that.  They  have  informal  meetings  every 
week  or  so,  and  she  is  going  to  take  me.  She 
says  I  will  enjoy  them  and  that  they  will  adore 
me. 

Carol's  voice  swelled  with  triumph,  and  Da- 
vid's approval  turned  to  ice. 

"She  must  have  liked  me  or  she  wouldn't  have 
been  so  friendly.  She  laughed  at  the  Heights, — 
she  called  it  a  'little,  money-saving,  heart-squeez- 
ing, church-bound  neighborhood.'     She  said  I 


42  SUNNY  SLOPES 

must  study  new  thoughts  and  read  the  new  po- 
etry, and  run  cut  with  her  to  grip  souls  with 
real  people  now  and  then,  to  keep  my  star  from 
tarnishing.  I  didn't  understand  all  she  said,  but 
it  sounded  irresistible.  Oh,  she  was  lovely  to 
me." 

"She  shouldn't  have  talked  to  you  like  that," 
protested  David  quickly.  "She  is  not  fair  to 
our  people.  She  can  not  understand  them  be- 
cause they  live  sweet,  simple  lives  where  home 
and  church  are  throned.  New  thought  is  not 
necessary  to  them  because  they  are  full  of  the 
old,  old  thought  of  training  their  babies,  and 
keeping  their  homes,  and  worshiping  God.  And 
I  know  the  kind  of  people  she  meets  down-town, — 
a  sort  of  high-class  Bohemia  where  everybody 
flirts  with  everybody  else  in  the  name  of  art. 
You  wouldn't  care  for  it." 

Carol  adroitly  changed  the  subject,  and  David 
said  no  more. 

The  next  day,  quite  accidentally,  she  met  Mrs. 
Waldemar  on  the  corner  and  they  had  a  soda 


A  WOMAN  IN  THE  CHURCH       43 

together  at  the  drug  store.  That  night  after 
prayer-meeting  David  had  to  tarry  for  a  deacons' 
meeting,  and  Carol  and  Mrs.  Waldemar  saun- 
tered off  alone,  arm  in  arm,  and  waited  in  Mrs. 
Waldemar's  hammock  until  David  appeared. 

And  David  did  not  see  anything  wonderful  in 
the  dark,  deep  eyes  at  all, — they  looked  down- 
right wicked  to  him.  He  took  Carol  away  hur- 
riedly, and  questioned  her  feverishly  to  find  out 
if  Mrs.  Waldemar  had  put  any  fresh  nonsense 
into  her  pretty  little  head. 

Day  after  day  passed  by  and  David  began  go- 
ing around  the  block  to  avoid  Mrs.  Waldemar's 
hammock.  Her  advanced  thoughts,  expressed  to 
him,  old  and  settled  and  quite  mature,  were  only 
amusing.  But  when  she  poured  the  vials  of  her 
emancipation  on  little,  innocent,  trusting  Carol, — ■ 
it  was — well,  David  called  it  "pure  down  mean- 
ness." She  was  trying  to  make  his  wife  dissatis- 
fied with  her  environment,  with  her  life,  with  her 
very  husband.  David's  kindly  heart  swelled 
with  unaccustomed  fury. 


44  SUNNY  SLOPES 

» 
Carol  always  assured  him  that  she  didn't  be- 
lieve the  things  Mrs.  Waldemar  said, — it  was 
interesting,  that  was  all,  and  curious,  and  gave 
her  new  things  to  think  about.  And  minister's 
families  must  be  broad  enough  to  make  Chris- 
tian allowance  for  all. 

But,  curiously  enough,  she  grew  genuinely 
fond  of  Mrs.  Waldemar.  And  Mrs.  Waldemar, 
in  gratitude  for  the  girlish  affection  of  the  little 
manse  lady,  left  David  alone.  But  one  day  she 
took  Carol's  dimpled  chin  in  her  hand,  and 
turned  the  face  up  that  she  might  look  directly 
into  the  young  blue  eyes. 

"Carol,"  she  said,  smiling,  "you  are  a  girlie, 
girlie  wife,  with  dimples  and  curls  and  all  the 
baby  tricks,  but  you're  a  pretty  clever  little  lady 
at  that.  You  were  not  going  to  let  your  darling 
old  David  get  into  trouble,  were  you?  And 
quite  right,  my  dear,  quite  right.  And  between 
you  and  me,  I  like  you  far,  far  better  than  your 
husband."    She   smiled  the   crooked   smile   and 


A  WOMAN  IN  THE  CHURCH       45 

pinched  Carol's  crimson  cheek.  "The  only  way 
to  keep  hubby  out  of  danger  is  to  tackle  it  your- 
self, isn't  it?  Oh,  don't  blush, — I  like  you  all 
the  better  for  your  little  trick." 


"D 


CHAPTER  V 

A  Minister's  Son 

"Centerville,  Iowa. 
EAR  Carol  and  David: 
"I  am  getting  very,  exceptionally  wise. 
I  am  really  appalled  at  myself.  It  seems  so  un- 
necessary in  one  so  young.  You  will  remember, 
Carol,  that  I  used  to  say  it  was  unfair  that  min- 
isters' children  should  be  denied  so  much  of  the 
worldly  experience  that  other  ordinary  humans 
fall  heir  to  by  the  natural  sequence  of  things. 
I  resented  the  deprivation.  I  coveted  one  taste 
of  every  species  of  sweet,  satanic  or  otherwise. 
"I  have  changed  my  mind.  I  have  been  con- 
vinced that  ordinaries  may  dabble  in  forbidden 
fires,  and  a  little  cold  ointment  will  banish  every 
trace  of  the  flame,  but  ministers'  children  stay 

46 


A  MINISTER'S  SON  47 

scarred  and  charred  forever.  I  have  decided  to 
keep  far  from  the  worldly  blazes  and  let  others 
supply  the  fanning  breezes.  For  you  know, 
Carol,  that  the  wickedest  fires  in  the  world  would 
die  out  if  there  were  not  some  willing  hands  to 
fan  them.  \ 

"There  is  the  effect.  The  cause  —  Kirke 
Connor. 

"Carol,  has  David  ever  explained  to  you  what 
fatal  fascination  a  semi-satanic  man  has  for  nice, 
white  women  ?  I  have  been  at  father  many  times 
on  the  subject,  and  he  says,  'Connie,  be  reason- 
able, what  do  I  know  about  semi-satanics  ?'  Then 
he  goes  down-town.  See  if  you  can  get  anything 
out  of  David  on  the  subject  and  let  me  know. 

"Kirke  is  a  semi-satanic.  Also  a  minister's 
son.  He  has  been  in  trouble  of  one  kind  or  an- 
other ever  since  I  first  met  him,  when  he  was 
fourteen  years  old.  He  fairly  seethed  his  way 
through  college.  Mr.  Connor  has  resigned  from 
the  active  ministry  now  and  lives  in  Mount  Mark, 
and  Kirke  bought  a  partnership  in   Mr.   Ives' 


48  SUNNY  SLOPES 

furniture  store  and  goes  his  troubled,  riotous 
way  as  heretofore.  That  is,  he  did  until  re- 
cently. 

"A  few  weeks  ago  I  missed  my  railway  con- 
nections and  had  to  lay  over  for  three  hours  in 
Fairfield.  I  checked  my  suit-case  and  started 
out  to  look  up  some  of  my  friends.  As  I  went 
out  one  door,  I  glimpsed  the  vanishing  point  of 
a  man's  coat  exiting  in  the  opposite  direction.  I 
started  to  cut  across  the  corner,  but  a  backward 
glance  revealed  a  man's  hat  and  one  eye  peering 
around  the  corner  of  the  station.  Was  I  being 
detected?  I  stopped  in  my  tracks,  my  literary 
instinct  on  the  alert.  The  hat  slowly  pivoted  a 
head  into  view.  It  was  Kirke  Connor.  He  shuf- 
fled toward  me,  glancing  back  and  forth  in  a 
curious,  furtive  way.  His  face  was  harrowed, 
his  eyes  blood-shot.  He  clutched  my  hand  breath- 
lessly and  clung  to  me  as  to  the  proverbial  straw. 

"  'Have  you  seen  Matters  ?'  he  asked. 

"'Matters?' 


A  MINISTER'S  SON  49 

"  'You  know  Matters, — the  sheriff  at  Mount 
Mark/ 

"I  looked  at  him  in  a  way  which  I  trust  be- 
came the  daughter  of  a  district  superintendent 
of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church. 

"He  mopped  his  fevered  brow. 

u  'He  has  been  on  my  trail  for  two  days/ 
Then  he  twinkled,  more  like  himself.  Tt  has 
been  a  hot  trail,  too,  if  I  do  say  it  who  shouldn't. 
If  he  has  had  a  full  breath  for  the  last  forty- 
eight  hours,  I  am  ashamed  of  myself.' 

"  'But  what  in  the  world — ' 

"  'Let's  duck  into  the  station  a  minute.  I 
know  the  freight  agent  and  he  will  hide  me  in 
a  trunk  if  need  be.  I  will  tell  you  about  it.  It 
is  enough  to  make  your  blood  run  cold.' 

"Honestly,  it  was  running  cold  already.  Here 
was  literature  for  the  asking.  Kirke's  wild  ap- 
pearance, his  furtive  manner,  the  searching  sher- 
iff— a  plot  made  to  order.  So  I  tried  to  forget 
the  M.  E.  Universal,  and  we  slipped  into  the 


50  SUNNY  SLOPES 

station  and  seated  ourselves  comfortably  on 
some  egg  boxes  in  a  shadowy  corner  where  he 
told  his  sad,  sad  tale. 

"  'Connie,  you  keep  a  wary  eye  on  the  world, 
the  flesh  and  the  devil*.  I  know  whereof  I  speak. 
Other  earth-born  creatures  may  flirt  with  sin 
and  escape  unscathed.  But  the  Lord  is  after  the 
minister's  son/ 

"'I  thought  it  was  the  sheriff  after  you?'  I 
interrupted. 

"  'Well,  so  it  is,  technically.  And  the  devil 
is  after  the  sheriff,  but  I  think  the  Lord  is 
touching  them  both  up  a  little  to  get  even  with 
me.  Anyhow,  between  the  Lord  and  the  devil, 
with  the  sheriff  thrown  in,  this  world  is  no  place 
for  a  minister's  son.  And  the  rule  works  on 
daughters,  too. 

"  'You  know,  Connie,  I  have  received  the 
world  with  open  hands,  a  loving  heart,  a  recep- 
tive soul.  And  I  got  gloriously  filled  up,  too, 
let  me  tell  you.  Connie,  shun  the  little  gay- 
backed   cards   that   bear   diamonds   and   hearts 


A  MINISTER'S  SON  51 

and  spades.  Connie,  flee  from  the  ice-cold  bot- 
tles that  bubble  to  meet  your  lips.  Connie,  turn 
a  cold  shoulder  to  the  gilded  youths  who  sing 
when  the  night  is  old/ 

"  'For  goodness'  sake,  Kirke,  tell  me  the  story 
before  the  sheriff  gets  you.' 

"  'Well,  it  is  a  story  of  bottles  on  ice/ 

"  'Mount  Mark  is  dry/ 

"  'Yes,  like  other  towns,  Mount  Mark  is  dry  for 
those  who  want  it  dry,  but  it  is  wet  enough  to 
drown  any  misguided  soul  who  loves  the  damp. 
I  loved  it, — but,  with  the  raven,  nevermore. 
Connie,  there  is  one  thing  even  more  fatal  to  a 
minister's  son  than  bottles  of  beer.  That  thing 
is  politics.  If  I  had  taken  my  beer  straight  I 
might  have  escaped.  But  I  tried  to  dilute  it 
with  politics,  and  behold  the  result.  My  father 
walking  the  floor  in  anguish,  my  mother  in 
tears,  my  future  blasted,  my  hopes  shattered/ 

"  'Kirke,  tell  me  the  story/ 

"  'Matters  is  running  for  reelection.  I  do 
not  approve  of  Matters.   He  is  a  booze  fighter 


52  SUNNY  SLOPES 

and  a  card  shark  and  a  lot  of  other  unscriptural 
things.  As  a  Methodist  and  a  minister's  son  I 
felt  called  to  battle  his  return  to  office.  So  I 
went  out  electioneering  for  my  friend  and 
ally,  Joe  Smithson.  You  know,  Connie,  that  in 
spite*  of  my  wandering  ways,  I  have  friends  in 
the  county  and  I  am  a  born  talker.  I  took  my 
faithful  steed  and  I  spent  many  hours,  which 
should  have  been  devoted  to  selling  furniture, 
decrying  the  vices  of  Matters,  extolling  the  vir- 
tues of  Smithson.    Matters  got  his  eye  on  me. 

"  'He  had  the  other  eye  on  that  office.  He 
saw  he  must  make  a  strong  bid  for  county  favor. 
The  easiest  way  to  do  that  in  Mount  Mark  is  to 
get  after  a  boot-legger.  There  was  Snippy  Brown, 
a  poor  old  harmless  nigger,  trying  to  earn  an 
honest  living  by  selling  a  surreptitious  bottle 
from  a  hole  in  the  ground  to  a  thirsting  neigh- 
bor in  the  dead  of  night.  Plainly  Snippy  Brown 
was  fairly  crying  to  be  raided.  Matters  raided 
him.  And  he  got  a  couple  of  hundred  of  bottles 
on  ice. 


A  MINISTER'S  SON  53 

"  'Served  him  right/  I  said,  in  a  Sabbatical 
voice. 

"  To  be  sure  it  did.  And  Matters  put  him  in 
jail  and  made  a  great  fuss  getting  ready  for  his 
trial.  I  had  a  friend  at  court  and  he  tipped  me 
off  that  Matters  was  going  to  disgrace  the  Meth- 
odist Church  in  general  and  the  Connors  in  par- 
ticular by  calling  me  in  as  a  witness,  making  me 
tell  where  I  bought  sundry  bottles  known  to  have 
been  in  my  possession.  Picture  it  to  yourself, 
sweet  Connie, — my  white-haired  mother,  my 
sad-eyed  father,  the  condemning  deacons,  the 
sneering  Sunday-school  teachers,  the  prim-lipped 
Epworth  Leaguers, — it  could  not  be.  I  left 
town.  Matters  left  also, — coming  my  way. 
For  two  days  we  have  been  at  it,  hot  foot,  cold 
foot.  We  have  covered  most  of  southeastern 
Iowa  in  forty-eight  hours.  He  has  the  papers 
to  serve  on  me,  but  he's  got  to  go  some  yet/ 

"Kirke  stood  up  and  peered  about  among  the 
trunks.    All  serene. 

'"I  am  nearly  starved/  he  said  plaintively. 


54  SUNNY  SLOPES 

'Do  you  suppose  we  could  sneak  into  some  quiet 
joint  and  grab  a  ham  sandwich  and  a  cup  of 
coffee  ?' 

"I  was  willing  to  risk  it,  so  we  sashayed  across 
the  street,  I  swirling  my  skirts  as  much  as  pos- 
sible to  help  conceal  unlucky  Kirke. 

"But  alas !  Kirke  had  taken  just  one  ravenous 
gulp  at  his  sandwich  when  he  stopped  abruptly, 
leaning  forward,  his  coffee  cup  upraised.  I  fol- 
lowed his  wide-eyed  stare.  There  outside  the 
window  stood  Matters,  grinning  diabolically. 
He  pushed  open  the  door,  Kirke  leaped  across 
the  counter  and  vaulted  through  the  side  win- 
dow, crashing  the  screen.  Matters  dashed  around 
the  house  in  hot  pursuit,  and  I — well,  consider 
that  I  was  a  reporter,  seeking  a  scoop.  They  did 
not  beat  me  by  six  inches.  Only  I  wish  I  had 
dropped  the  sandwich.  I  must  have  looked 
funny. 

"Kirke  flashed  behind  a  shed,  Matters  after 
him,  I  after  Matters.  Kirke  zigzagged  across  a 
lawn  dodging  from  tree  to  tree, — Matters  and 


A  MINISTER'S  SON  55 

I.  Kirke  turned  into  an  alley, — Matters  and  I. 
Woe  to  the  erring  son  of  a  minister!  It  was  a 
blind  alley.  It  ended  in  a  garage  and  the  garage 
was  locked. 

"Matters  pulled  out  a  revolver  and  yelled, 
'Now  stop,  you  fool;  stop,  Kirke f  Kirke 
looked  back;  I  think  he  was  just  ready  to  shin 
up  the  lightning  rod  but  he  saw  the  revolver 
and  stopped.  Matters  walked  up,  laughing,  and 
handed  him  a  paper.  Kirke  shoved  it  in  his 
pocket.  I  clasped  my  sandwich  in  both  hands 
and  looked  at  them  tragically, — sob  element. 
Then  Matters  turned  away  and  said,  'See  you 
later,  Kirke.  I  congratulate  the  county  on  se- 
curing your  services.  Just  the  kind  of  witness 
we  like,  nice,  respectable,  good  family,  and  all. 
Makes  it  size  up  big,  you  know.  Be  sure  and 
invite  your  friends.' 

"For  a  second  I  thought  Kirke  would  strike 
him.  I  shook  the  sandwich  at  him  warningly 
and  he  answered  with  a  wave  of  his  own, — yes, 
he  had  his  sandwich,  too.     Then  he  said  in  a 


56  SUNNY  SLOPES 

low  voice,  'All  right,  Matters.  But  you  call  me 
in  that  -trial  and  I'll  get  you.' 

"  'Oh,  oh,  Sonny,  you  must  not  threaten  an 
officer  of  the  law/  said  Matters,  in  a  hateful, 
chiding  voice.  He  turned  and  sauntered  away. 
Kirke  and  I  watched  him  silently  until  he  was 
out  of  sight.  Then  we  turned  to  each  other 
sympathetically. 

"  'Let's  go  back  after  that  coffee/  said  Kirke 
bravely. 

"He  took  a  bite  of  his  sandwich  thoughtfully, 
and  I  did  of  mine,  trying  to  eat  the  lump  in 
my  throat  with  it.  An  hour  later  we  went  our 
separate  ways. 

"I  heard  nothing  further  for  two  weeks,  then 
Mr.  Nesbitt  was  called  East  on  business  and 
said  I  might  go  home  if  I  liked.  Imagine  my 
ecstasy.  I  found  the  family,  as  well  as  all 
Methodists  in  general,  quite  uplifted  over  the 
strange  case  of  Kirke  Connor.  From  a  semi- 
satanic,  he  had  suddenly  evoluted  into  a  regular 
pillar,  as  became  the  son  of  his  saintly  mother 


A  MINISTER'S  SON  57 

and  his  orthodox  father.  He  attended  church, 
he  sang  in  the  choir,  he  went  to  Sunday-school, 
he  was  prominent  at  prayer-meeting.  Every  one 
was  full  of  pious  satisfaction  and  called  hirr} 
'dear  old  Kirke,'  and  gave  him  the  glad  hand 
and  invited  him  to  help  at  ice-cream  socials.  No 
one  could  explain  it,  they  thought  he  was  a  Mount 
Mark  edition  of  Twice  Born  Men  in  the  flesh. 

"So  the  first  afternoon  when  he  drove  around 
with  his  speedy  little  brown  horse  and  his  rub- 
ber tired  buggy  and  asked  me  to  go  for  a  drive, 
father  smiled,  and  Aunt  Grace  demurred  not. 
Maybe  I  could  give  him  a  little  more  light.  I 
watched  him  pretty  closely  the  first  mile  or  so. 
He  had  nothing  to  say  until  we  were  a  mile  out 
of  town.  He  is  a  good-looking  fellow,  Carol, — 
you  remember,  of  course,  because  you  never 
forget  the  boys,  especially  the  good-looking  ones. 
His  eyes  were  clear  and  slightly  humorous,  as  if 
he  knew  a  host  of  funny  things  if  he  only  chose 
to  tell.  Finally  in  answer  to  my  reproachful 
gaze,  he  said: 


58  SUNNY  SLOPES 

"  'Well,  I  didn't  have  anything  to  say  about 
it,  did  I?  I  did  not  ask  to  be  born  a  minister's 
son.  It  was  foreordained,  and  now  I've  got  to 
live  up  to  it  in  self-defense.  There  may  be  for- 
giveness for  other  erring  ones,  but  I  tell  you  our 
crowd  is  spotted/ 

"I  had  nothing  to  say. 

"  'Well,  you  might  at  least  say,  "Good  for  you, 
my  boy.     Here's  luck?"'  he  complained. 

"I  was  still  silent. 

"  'It  is  good  business,  too/  he  continued  bel- 
ligerently. 'I  am  selling  lots  of  furniture.  I 
have  burned  the  black  and  white  cards.  I  have 
broken  the  ice-cold  bottles.  I  have  shunned  the 
gilded  youths  with  mellow  voices.  I  go  to 
church.    I  sell  furniture.    I  sleuth  Matters.' 

'"You  what?' 

"  'I  am  trailing  Matters.  Turn  about.  Where 
he  goeth,  I  goeth.  Where  he  lodgeth,  I  lodgeth. 
His  knowledge  is  my  knowledge,  and  his  tricks, 
my  salvation/ 


A  MINISTER'S  SON  59 

"  'You  make  me  sick,  Kirke.  Why  don't  you 
talk  sense?' 

"  'He  is  crooked,  Connie,  and  everybody 
knows  it.  But  it  is  no  cinch  catching  him  at  it. 
Smithson  is  going  to  be  elected  and  Matters 
knows  it.  But  the  only  way  I  can  keep  out  of 
that  trial  is  to  get  something  on  Matters.  So 
whenever  he  is  out,  I  am  out  on  the  same  road. 
He  is  going  toward  New  London  this  afternoon 
and  so  are  we.  I  have  got  just  five  more  days 
and  you  must  be  a  good  little  scout  and  go  driv- 
ing with  me,  so  he  won't  catch  on  that  I  am 
sleuthing  him.  He  will  think  I  am  just  beauing 
you  around  in  the  approved  Mount  Mark  style.' 

"Sure  enough  after  a  while  we  came  across 
Matters  talking  to  a  couple  of  farmers  on  the 
cross  roads,  and  Kirke  and  I  stopped  a  quarter 
of  a  mile  farther  down  and  ate  sandwiches  and 
told  stories,  and  when  Matters  passed  us  a  little 
later  he  could  have  sworn  we  were  there  just 
for  our  joy  in  each  other's  company.  But  we 
did  not  learn  anything. 


60  SUNNY  SLOPES 

"The  next  day  we  were  out  again,  with  no 
better  luck.  But  the  third  day  about  four  in  the 
afternoon,  Kirke  called  me  on  the  telephone. 
There  was  subtle  excitement  in  his  voice. 

"  'Come  for  a  drive,  Connie  ?'  he  asked ;  com- 
mon words,  but  there  was  a  world  of  hidden 
invitation,  of  secret  lure,  in  his  voice  for  me. 

"  'Yes,  gladly/  I  said.  Father  did  not  nod  ap- 
provingly and  Aunt  Grace  did  not  smile  this 
time.  Three  days  in  succession  was  a  little  too 
warm  even  for  a  newly  made  pillar,  but  they 
said  nothing  and  Kirke  and  I  set  out. 

"  'He  raided  Jack  Mott's  last  night  and  has 
about  three  hundred  bottles  to  smash  this  after- 
noon. The  old  fellow  is  pretty  fond  of  the  ice- 
cold  bottles  himself  and  it  is  common  report 
that  he  raids  just  often  enough  to  keep  him- 
self supplied.  So  I  think  I'll  keep  an  eye  on 
him  to-day.  He  started  half  an  hour  ago,  south 
road,  and  he  has  Gus  Waldron  with  him, — his 
boon  companion,  and  the  most  notoriously  ar- 


A  MINISTER'S  SON  61 

dent  devotee  of  the  bottles  in  all  dear  dry  Mount 
Mark.     Lovely  day  for  a  drive,  isn't  it?' 

"  'Yes,  lovely/  I  was  very  happy.  I  felt  like 
a  princess  of  old,  riding  off  into  danger,  and  I 
felt  very  warm  and  friendly  toward  Kirke.  Re- 
member that  he  is  very  good-looking  and  just 
bad  enough  in  spite  of  his  new  pillar-hood,  to  be 
spell-binding,  and — it  was  lots  of  fun.  Kirke 
grabbed  my  hand  and  squeezed  it  chummily,  and 
I  smiled  at  him. 

1  'You  are  a  glorious  girl/  he  said. 

"I  suppose  I  should  have  reminded  him  and 
myself  that  he  was  a  semi-satanic,  but  I  did  not. 
I  laughed  and  rubbed  the  back  of  his  hand  softly 
with  the  tips  of  my  nice  pink  ringer  nails,  and 
laughed  again. 

"Then  here  came  a  light  wagon, — Matters 
and  Waldron, — going  home,  and  we  realized  we 
had  been  loitering  on  the  job.  Kirke  shook  his 
head  impatiently. 

"  'You  distracted  me/  he  said.  'I  forgot  my 
reputation's  salvation  in  the  smile  of  your  eye/ 


62  SUNNY  SLOPES 

"But  we  drove  on  to  look  the  field  over.  Less 
than  half  a  mile  down  the  road  we  came  to  a 
low  creek  with  rocky  rugged  banks.  The  banks 
were  splashed  and  splattered  with  bits  of  glass, 
and  over  the  glass  and  over  the  rocks  ran  thin 
trickling  streams  of  a  pale  brown  liquid  that 
had  a  perfectly  sickening  odor.  I  sniffed  dis- 
gustedly as  we  walked  over  to  reconnoiter. 

"  'I  guess  he  made  good  all  right,'  said  Kirke 
in  a  disappointed  voice,  inspecting  the  glass- 
splattered  banks  of  the  creek.  Then  he  leaped 
across  and  walked  lightly  up  the  bank  on  the 
opposite  side.  Stooping  down,  he  lifted  an  un- 
broken bottle  and  waved  it  at  me,  laughing. 

"  'They  missed  one.  Never  a  crack  in  it  and 
still  cold/  He  looked  at  it  curiously,  affection- 
ately, then  with  resignation.  T  am  a  minister's 
son,'  he  reminded  himself  sternly.  He  lifted  the 
bottle  above  his  head,  and  with  his  eye  selected 
a  nice  rough  rock  half  way  down  the  bank. 
'Watch  the  bubbles,'  he  called  to  me. 

"  'Hay,   mister,'   interposed   a  voice,   'gimme 


A  MINISTER'S  SON  63 

half  a  dollar  an'  I'll  show  you  a  whole  pile  of 
'em  that  ain't  broke.' 

''Slowly  we  rallied  from  our  stupefaction  as 
we  gazed  at  the  slim,  brown,  barefooted  lad  of 
the  farm  who  was  proudly  brandishing  a  for- 
bidden cigarette  of  corn-silks. 

"  'A  whole  pile  of  'em.  On  the  square  ?'  asked 
Kirke  with  glittering  eyes. 

"  'Yes,  sir.  A  couple  o'  fellows  come  out  in  a 
light  wagon  a  while  ago  an'  had  a  lot  of  bottles 
in  boxes.  First  they  thro  wed  one  on  the  rocks, 
an'  then  they  throwed  one  up  in  the  tall  grass, 
one  up  an'  one  down.  There's  a  whole  pile  of 
'em  that  ain't  broke  at  all.  An'  the  little  dark 
fellow  says,  "A  good  job,  Gus.  We'll  be  Johnny- 
on-the-spot  as  soon  as  it  gets  dark."  ' 

"Kirke  was  standing  over  him,  his  eyes  bright, 
his  hands  clenched.   'On  the  level?'  he  whispered. 

"  'Sure,  but  gimme  the  half  first.'  Kirke 
passed  out  a  silver  dollar  without  a  word  and 
the  boy  snatched  it  from  him,  giggling  to  him- 
self with  rapture. 


64  SUNNY  SLOPES 

"  'Right  up  there,  mister,  in  that  pile  of 
weeds/ 

"Kirke  took  my  hand  and  we  scrambled  up 
the  bank,  pulling  back  the  tall  grass, — no  need  to 
stoop  and  look.  Bottle  after  bottle,  bottle  after 
bottle,  lay  there  snugly  and  securely,  waiting 
for  the  sheriff  and  his  friend  to  rescue  them 
after  dark. 

"The  lad  had  already  disappeared,  smoking 
his  corn-silks  rapturously,  his  dollar  snug  in  the 
palm  of  his  hand.  And  Kirke  and  I,  without  a 
word,  began  patiently  carrying  the  bottles  to  the 
buggy.  Again  and  again  we  returned  to  the 
clump  of  weeds,  counting  the  bottles  as  we  car- 
ried them  out, — a  hundred  and  fifty  of  them, 
even. 

"Then  we  got  into  the  buggy,  feet  outside,  for 
the  bed  of  the  buggy  was  filled  and  piled  high, 
covered  with  the  robe  to  discourage  prying  eyes, 
and  turned  the  little  brown  mare  toward  town. 

"  'Connie,  would  you  seriously  object  to  kiss- 


A  MINISTER'S  SON  65 

ing  me  just  once?  I  feel  the  need  of  it  this 
minute, — moral  stimulus,  you  know/ 

"  'Ministers'  daughters  have  to  be  very,  very 
careful/  I  told  him  in  an  even  voice. 

"We  were  both  silent  then  as  we  drove  into 
town.  When  he  pulled  up  in  front  of  the  house 
he  looked  me  straight  in  the  face,  and  he  uses 
his  eyes  effectively. 

"  'You  are  a  darling/  he  said. 

"I  said  Thanks/  and  went  into  the  house. 

"He  told  me  next  morning  what  happened 
that  evening.  Of  course  he  was  there  to  wit- 
ness Matters'  discomfiture.  He  did  not  put  in 
appearance  until  the  sheriff  and  his  friend  were 
climbing  anxiously  and  sadly  into  the  light 
wagon  to  return  home  empty-handed.  Then  he 
sauntered  from  behind  a  hedge  and  lifted  his 
hat  in  his  usual  debonair  manner. 

"  'By  the  way,  Mr.  Sheriff,'  he  began  in  a 
quiet,  ingratiating  voice,  'I  hope  I  am  not  to  be 
called  as  a  witness  in  that  boot-legging  case/ 

"Matters    snarled    at   him.     'Pooh,'    he    said 


66  SUNNY  SLOPES 

angrily,  'you  can't  blackmail  me  like  that.  You 
can't  prove  anything  on  me.  I  reckon  the  people 
around  here  will  take  the  word  of  the  sheriff  of 
their  county  against  the  booze  fightin'  son  of 
a  Methodist  preacher/ 

"Kirke  waved  his  hand  airily.  'Far  be  it  from 
me  to  enter  into  any  defense  of  my  father's  son. 
But  a  hundred  and  fifty  bottles  are  pretty  good 
evidence.  And  speaking  of  witnesses,  I  have  a 
hunch  that  the  people  of  this  county  will  fall 
pretty  hard  for  anything  that  comes  from  the 
lips  of  the  baby  daughter  of  the  district  super- 
intendent of  the  Methodist  Church.' 

"Matters  hunched  forward  in  his  seat.  'Con- 
nie Starr,'  he  said,  in  a  hollow  voice. 

"Kirke  swished  the  weeds  with  his  cane, — he 
has  all  those  graceful  affectations. 

"Matters  swallowed  a  few  times.  'Old  man 
Starr  is  too  smart  a  man  to  get  his  family 
mixed  up  in  politics,'  he  finally  brought  out. 

"  'Baby  Con  is  of  age,  I  think,'  said  Kirke 


A  MINISTER'S  SON  67 

lightly.  'And  she  is  very  advanced,  you  know, 
something  of  a  reformer,  has  all  kinds  of  eman- 
cipated notions.' 

"Matters  whipped  up  and  disappeared,  and 
Kirke  went  to  prayer-meeting.  Aunt  Grace  saw 
him;  I  wasn't  there. 

"The  next  day,  I  met  Matters  on  the  street. 
Rather,  he  met  me. 

"  'Miss  Connie,'  he  said  in  a  friendly,  inviting 
voice,  'you  know  there  are  a  lot  of  things  in 
politics  that  girls  can't  get  to  the  bottom  of. 
You  know  my  record,  I've  been  a  good  Meth- 
odist since  before  you  were  born.  Sure  you 
wouldn't  go  on  the  witness  stand  on  circum- 
stantial evidence  to  make  trouble  for  a  good 
Methodist,  would  you?' 

"I  looked  at  him  with  wide  and  childish  eyes. 
4Of  course  not,  Mr.  Matters,'  I  said  quickly.  He 
brightened  visibly.  'But  if  I  am  called  on  a  wit- 
ness stand  I  have  to  tell  what  I  have  seen  and 
heard,  haven't  I,  whatever  it  is?'  I  asked  this 
very  innocently,  as  one  seeking  information  only. 


68  SUNNY  SLOPES 

"  'Your  father  wouldn't  let  a  young  girl  like 
you  get  mixed  up  in  any  dirty  county  scandal,' 
he  protested. 

"  'If  I  was — what  do  you  call  it — subpoenaed 
— is  that  the  word  ?'  He  forgot  that  I  was  work- 
ing in  a  lawyer's  office.  'If  I  was  subpoenaed 
as  a  witness,  could  father  help  himself?' 

"Mr.  Matters  went  forlornly  on  his  way  and 
that  night  Kirke  came  around  to  say  that  the 
sheriff  had  informed  him  casually  that  he 
thought  his  services  would  not  be  needed  on  that 
boot-legging  case, — they  had  plenty  of  other  wit- 
nesses,— and  out  of  regard  for  the  family,  etc.,  etc. 

"Kirke  smiled  at  him.  'Thank  you  very  much. 
And,  Matters,  I  have  a  hundred  and  fifty  nice 
cold  bottles  in  the  basement, — if  you  get  too 
warm  some  summer  evening  come  around  and 
I'll  help  you  cool  off.' 

"Matters  thanked  him  incoherently  and  went 
away. 

"That  day  Kirke  and  I  had  a  confidential  con- 
versation.  'Connie  Starr,  I  believe,  I  an}  half  a 


A  MINISTER'S  SON  69 

preacher  right  now.  You  marry  me,  and  I  will 
study  for  the  ministry/ 

"  'Kirke  Connor,'  I  said,  'if  any  fraction  of 
you  is  a  minister,  it  isn't  on  speaking  terms  with 
the  rest  of  you.  That's  certain.  And  I  wouldn't 
marry  you  if  you  were  a  whole  Conference. 
And  I  don't  want  to  marry  a  preacher  of  all 
people.  And  anyhow  I  am  not  going  to  get 
married  at  all/ 

"At  breakfast  the  next  morning  father  said, 
'I  believe  Kirke  Connor  is  headed  straight,  for 
good  and  all.  Now  if  some  nice  girl  could  just 
marry  him  he  would  be  safe  enough.' 

"Aunt  Grace  looked  at  him  warningly.  'But 
of  course  no  nice  girl  could  do  it,  yet,'  she  inter- 
posed quickly.  'It  wouldn't  be  safe.  He  can't 
marry  until  he  is  sure  of  himself.' 

"'Oh,  I  don't  know,'  I  said  thoughtfully. 
'Provided  the  girl  were  clever  as  well  as  nice, 
she  could  handle  Kirke  easily.  Now  I  may  not 
be  the  nicest  girl  in  the  world,  but  no  one  can 
deny  that  I  am  clever/ 


70  SUNNY  SLOPES 

"Father  swallowed  helplessly.  Then  he  rallied. 
'By  the  way,  Connie,  won't  you  come  down  to 
Burlington  with  me  for  a  couple  of  days?  I 
have  a  lot  of  work  to  do  there,  and  we  can 
have  a  nice  little  honeymoon  all  by  ourselves. 
What  do  you  say?' 

"  'Oh,  thank  you,  father,  that  is  lovely.  Let's 
go  on  the  noon  train,  shall  we?  I  can  be  ready.' 

"  'All  right,  just  fine.'  He  flashed  a  trium- 
phant glance  at  Aunt  Grace  and  she  dimpled 
her  approval. 

"  'Now  don't  tell  any  one  we  are  going, 
father,'  I  cautioned  him.  'I  want  to  surprise 
Kirke  Connor.  He  is  going  to  Burlington  on 
that  train  himself,  and  it  will  be  such  a  joke  on 
him  to  find  us  there  ready  to  be  entertained.  He 
is  to  be  there  several  days,  so  he  can  amuse  me 
while  you  are  busy.  Isn't  it  lovely?  He  really 
needs  a  little  boosting  now,  and  it  is  our  duty, 
and — will  you  press  my  suit,  Auntie  ?  I  must  fly 
or  I  won't  be  ready.' 

"Aunt  Grace  looked  reproachfully  at  father, 


A  MINISTER'S  SON  71 

and  father  looked  despairingly  at  Aunt  Grace. 
But  we  had  a  splendid  time  in  Burlington,  the 
three  of  us,  for  father  never  did  one  second's 
work  all  the  time,  he  was  so  deathly  afraid  to 
leave  me  alone  with  Kirke. 

"Isn't  it  lots  of  fun  to  be  alive,  Carol?  So 
many  thrilling  and  interesting  and  happy  things 
come  up  every  day, — I  love  to  dig  in  and  work 
hard,  and  how  I  love  to  drop  my  work  at  five 
thirty  and  run  home  and  doll  up,  and  play,  and 
flirt — just  nice,  harmless  flirting, — and  sing,  and 
talk, — really,  it  is  a  darling  little  old  world, 
isn't  it? 

"Oh,  and  by  the  wTay,  Carol,  when  you  want 
a  divorce  just  write  me  about  it.  Mr.  Nesbitt 
and  I  specialize  on  divorces,  and  I  can  do  the 
whole  thing  myself  and  save  you  lots  of  trouble. 
Just  tell  me  when,  and  I  will  furnish  your 
motive. 

"Lovingly  as  always, 

"Connie." 


CHAPTER  VI 
The  Heavy  Yoke 

THE  burden  of  ministering  rested  very 
lightly  on  Carol's  slender  shoulders.  The 
endless  procession  of  missionary  meetings,  aid 
societies,  guilds  and  boards,  afforded  her  a  child- 
ish delight  and  did  not  sap  her  enthusiasm  to 
the  slightest  degree.  She  went  out  of  her  little 
manse  each  new  day,  laughing,  and  returned, 
wearily  perhaps,  but  still  laughing.  She  sang 
light-heartedly  with  the  youth  of  the  church, 
because  she  was  young  and  happy  with  them. 
She  sympathized  passionately  with  the  old  and 
sorry  ones,  because  the  richness  of  her  own  con- 
tent, and  the  blessed  perfection  of  her  own  life, 
made  her  heart  tender. 

Into  her  new  life  she  had  carried  three  match- 
less assets  for  a  minister's  wife,-— a  supreme  con- 

72 


THE  HEAVY  YOKE  73 

fidence  in  the  exaltation  of  the  ministry,  a  bound- 
less adoration  for  her  husband,  and  a  natural  lik- 
ing for  people  that  made  people  naturally  like 
her.  Thus  equipped,  she  faced  the  years  of  aids 
and  missions  with  profound  serenity. 

She  was  sorry  they  hadn't  more  time  for  the 
honeymoon  business,  she  and  David.  Honey- 
mooning was  such  tremendously  good  fun.  But 
they  were  so  almost  unbelievably  busy  all  the 
time.  On  Monday  David  was  down-town  all 
day,  attending  minister's  meeting  and  Presby- 
tery in  the  morning,  and  looking  up  new  books  in 
the  afternoon.  Carol  always  joined  him  for 
lunch  and  they  counted  that  noon-time  hour  a 
little  oasis  in  a  week  of  work.  In  the  evening 
there  were  deacons'  meetings,  or  trustees'  meet- 
ings, or  the  men's  Bible  class.  On  Tuesday  even- 
ing they  had  a  Bible  study  class.  On  Wednes- 
day evening  was  prayer-meeting.  Thursday 
night,  they,  with  several  of  their  devoted  work- 
ers, walked  a  mile  and  a  half  across  country  to 


74  SUNNY  SLOPES 

Happy  Hollow  where  they  conducted  mad  little 
mission  meetings.  Friday  night  Carol  met  with 
the  young  women's  club,  and  on  Saturday  night 
was  a  mission  study  class. 

Carol  used  to  sigh  over  the  impossibility  of 
having  a  beau  night.  She  said  that  she  had 
often  heard  that  husbands  couldn't  be  sweet- 
hearts, but  she  had  never  believed  it  before. 
Pinned  down  to  facts,  however,  she  admitted  she 
preferred  the  husband. 

Mornings  Carol  was  busy  with  housework, 
talking  to  herself  without  intermission  as  she 
worked.  And  David  spent  long  hours  in  his 
study,  poring  over  enormous  books  that  Carol 
insisted  made  her  head  ache  from  the  outside  and 
would  probably  give  her  infantile  paralysis  if 
she  dared  to  peep  between  the  covers.  After- 
noons were  the  aid  societies,  missionary  societies, 
and  all  the  rest  of  them,  and  then  the  endless 
calls, — calls  on  the  sick,  calls  on  the  healthy, 
calls  on  the  pillars,  calls  on  the  backsliders,  calls 
on  the  very  sad,  calls  on  the  very  happy, — every 


THE  HEAVY  YOKE  75 

varying  phase  of  life  in  a  church  community 
merits  a  call  from  the  minister  and  his  wife. 

The  heavy  yoke, — the  yoke  of  dead  routine, — 
dogs  the  footsteps  of  every  minister,  and  even 
more,  of  every  minister's  wife.  But  Carol 
thought  of  the  folks  that  fitted  into  the  cogs  of 
the  routine  to  drive  it  round  and  round, — the 
teachers,  the  doctors'  wives,  the  free-thinkers,  the 
mothers,  the  professional  women,  the  cynics,  the 
pillars  of  the  church, — and  thinking  of  the  folks, 
she  forgot  the  routine.  And  so  to  her,  routine 
could  never  prove  a  clog,  stagnation.  Every 
meeting  brought  her  a  fresh  revelation,  they 
amused  her,  those  people,  they  puzzled  her,  some- 
times they  made  her  sad  and  frightened  her,  as 
they  taught  her  facts  of  life  they  had  gleaned 
from  wide  experience  and  often  in  bitter  tears. 
Still,  they  were  folks,  and  Carol  had  always  had 
a  passion  for  people. 

David  worked  too  hard.  It  was  positively 
wicked  for  any  human  being  to  work  as  he  did, 
and  she  scolded  him  roundly,  and  even  went  so 


76  SUNNY  SLOPES 

far  as  to  shake  him,  and  then  kissed  him  a 
dozen  times  to  prove  how  very  angry  she  was 
at  him  for  abusing  himself  so  shamefully. 

David  did  work  hard,  as  hard  as  every  young 
minister  must  work  to  get  things  going  right,  to 
make  his  labor  count.  His  face,  always  thin, 
was  leaner,  more  intense  than  ever.  His  eyes 
were  clear,  far-seeing.  The  whiteness  of  his 
skin,  amounting  almost  to  pallor,  gave  him  that 
suggestion  of  spirituality  not  infrequently  seen 
in  men  of  passionate  consecration  to  a  high  ideal. 
The  few  graying  hairs  at  his  temples,  and  even 
the  half-droop  of  his  shoulders,  added  to  his 
scholarly  appearance,  and  Carol  was  firmly  con- 
vinced that  he  was  the  finest-looking  man  in  all 
St.  Louis,  and  every  place  else  for  that  matter. 

The  mad  little  mission,  so-called  because  of  the 
riotous  nature  of  the  meetings  held  there,  was  in 
a  most  flourishing  condition.  Everything  was 
going  beautifully  for  the  little  church  in  the 
Heights,  and  in  their  gratitude,  and  their  hap- 
piness,   Carol   and   David   worked  harder  than 


THE  HEAVY  YOKE  77 

ever, — and  mutually  scolded  each  other  for  the 
folly  of  it. 

"I  tell  you  this,  David  Arnold  Duke,"  Carol 
told  him  sternly,  "if  you  don't  do  something 
to  that  cold  so  you  can  preach  without  cough- 
ing, I  shall  do  the  preaching  myself,  and  then 
where  would  you  be?" 

"Without  a  job,  of  course,"  he  answered. 
"But  you  wouldn't  do  it.  The  wind  has  chafed 
your  darling  complexion,  and  you  wouldn't  go 
into  the  pulpit  with  a  rough  face.  Your  de- 
votion to  your  beauty  saves  me." 

"All  very  well,  but  maybe  you  think  a  cold- 
sermon  is  effective."  Carol  stood  up  and  lifted 
her  hand  impressively.  "My  dear  brothers  and 
sisters, — hem-ah-hem-h-hh-em, —  let  us  unite  in 
reading  the — ah-huh-huh-huh.  Let  us  sing — 
h-h-h-h-hem — well,  let  us  unite  in  prayer  then — 
ah-chooo !  ah-choooooo !" 

"Where  did  you  put  those  cough-drops?"  he 
demanded.  "But  even  at  that  it  is  better  than 
you  would  do.     *Just  as  soon  as  I  powder  my 


78  SUNNY  SLOPES 

face  we  will  unite  in  singing  hymn  one  hundred 
thirty-six.  Oh,  excuse  me  a  minute, — I  believe 
I  feel  a  cold-sore  coming, — I  have  a  mirror  right 
here,  and  it  won't  take  a  minute.  Now,  I  am 
ready.  Let  us  arise  and  sing, — but  since  I  can 
not  sing  I  will  just  polish  my  nails  while  the 
rest  of  you  do  it.   Ready,  go !'  " 

Carol  laughed  at  the  picture,  but  marched  off 
for  the  bottle  of  cough  medicine  and  the  powder 
box,  and  while  he  carefully  measured  out  a 
teaspoon ful  of  the  one  for  himself,  she  applied 
the  other  with  gay  devotion. 

"But  I  truly  think  you  should  not  go  to 
Happy  Hollow  to-night,"  she  said.  "Mr.  Bald- 
win will  go  with  me,  bless  his  faithful  old 
pillary  heart.  And  you  ought  to  stay  in.  It 
is  very  stormy,  and  that  long  walk — " 

"Oh,  nonsense,  a  little  cough  like  this!  You 
are  dead  tired  yourself;  you  stay  at  home  to- 
night, and  Baldwin  and  I  will  go.  You  really 
ought  to,  Carol,  you  are  on  the  jump  every 
minute.     Won't  you?" 


THE  HEAVY  YOKE  79 

"Most  certainly  not.  I  haven't  a  cold,  have 
I?  Maybe  you  want  to  keep  me  away  so  you 
can  flirt  with  some  of  the  Hollowers  while  I 
am  out  of  sight.    Absolutely  vetoed.    I  go." 

"Please,  Carol,— won't  you?  Because  I  ask 
it?" 

She  snuggled  up  to  him  at  that  and  said: 
"It's  too  lonesome,  Davie,  and  I  have  to  go  to 
remind  you  of  your  rubbers,  and  to  muffle  up 
your  throat.    But — " 

The  ring  of  the  telephone  disturbed  them,  and 
she  ran  to  answer. 

"Mr.  Baldwin? — Yes — Oh,  that  is  nice  of 
you.  I've  been  trying  to  coax  him  to  stay 
home  myself.  David,  Mr.  Baldwin  thinks  you 
should  not  go  out  to-night,  with  such  a  cold, 
and  he  will  take  the  meeting,  and — oh,  please, 
honey." 

David  took  the  receiver  from  her  hand. 

"Thanks  very  much,  Mr.  Baldwin,  that  is 
mighty  kind  of  you,  but  I  feel  fine  to-night.^ 
Oh,   sure,   just   a   little   cold.    Yes,   of   course. 


80  SUNNY  SLOPES 

Come  and  go  with  us,  won't  you?  Yes,  be  here 
about  seven.  Better  make  it  a  quarter  earlier, 
it's  bad  walking  to-night." 

"David,  please,"  coaxed  Carol. 

"Goosie!  Who  but  a  wife  would  make  an 
invalid  of  a  man  because  he  sneezes?"  David 
laughed,  and  Carol  said  no  more. 

But  a  few  minutes  later,  as  she  was  care- 
fully arranging  a  soft  fur  hat  over  her  hair 
and  David  stood  patiently  holding  her  coat, 
there  came  a  light  tap  at  the  door. 

"It  is  Mr.  Daniels,"  said  Carol.  "I  know  his 
knock.  Come  in,  Father  Daniels.  I  knew  it 
was  you." 

The  old  elder  from  next  door,  his  gray  hair 
standing  in  every  direction  from  the  wind  he 
had  encountered  bareheaded,  his  little  gray  eyes 
twinkling  bright,  opened  the  door. 

"You  crazy  kids  aren't  going  down  to  that 
Hollow  a  night  like  this,"  he  protested. 

They  nodded,  laughing. 

"Well,   David   can't   go,"   he   said   decidedly. 


THE  HEAVY  YOKE  81 

"That's  a  bad  cold  he's  got,  and  it's  been  hang- 
ing on  too  long.  I  can't  go  myself  for  I  can't 
walk,  but  I'll  call  up  my  son-in-law  and  make 
him  go.  So  take  off  your  hat,  Parson,  and — 
No  you  come  over  and  read  the  Bible  to  me 
while  the  young  folks  go  gadding.  I  need 
some  ministerial  attention  myself, — I'm  waver- 
ing in  my  faith." 

"You,  wavering?"  demanded  David.  "If  no 
one  ever  wavered  any  harder  than  you  do, 
Daniels,  there  wouldn't  be  much  of  a  job  for 
the  preachers.  And  you  say  for  me  to  let 
Carol  go  with  Dick?  What  are  you  thinking 
of?  I  tell  you  when  any  one  goes  gadding  with 
Carol,  I  am  the  man."  Then  he  added  seriously : 
"But  really,  I've  got  to  go  to-night.  We're  just 
getting  hold  of  the  folks  down  there  and  we 
can't  let  go.  Otherwise,  I  should  make  Carol 
stay  in.  But  the  boys  in  her  class  are  so  fond 
of  her  that  I  know  she  is  needed  as  much  as 
I  am." 

"But  that  cough—" 


82  SUNNY  SLOPES 

"Oh,  that  cough  is  all  right.  It  will  go  when 
spring  comes.  I  just  haven't  had  a  chance  to 
rest  my  throat.  I  feel  fine  to-night.  Come  on 
in,  Baldwin.  Yes,  we  are  ready.  Still  snowing? 
Well,  a  little  snow —  Here,  Carol,  you  must 
wear  your  gaiters.    I'll  buckle  them." 

A  little  later  they  set  out,  the  three  of  them, 
heads  lowered  against  the  driving  snow.  There 
were  no  cars  running  across  country,  and  in- 
deed not  even  sidewalks,  since  it  was  an  un- 
frequented part  of  the  town  with  no  resi- 
dences for  many  blocks  until  one  reached  the 
little,  tumbledown  section  in  the  Hollow.  Here 
and  there  were  heavy  drifts,  and  now  and  then 
an  unexpected  ditch  in  the  path  gave  Carol  a 
tumble  into  the  snow,  but,  laughing  and  breath- 
less, she  was  pulled  out  again  and  they  plodded 
heavily  on. 

In  spite  of  the  inclement  weather,  the  tiny 
house — called  a  mission  by  grace  of  speech — 
was  well  and  noisily  filled.  Over  sixty  people 
were  crowded  into  the  two  small  rooms,  most  of 


THE  HEAVY  YOKE  83 

them  boys  between  the  ages  of  twelve  and  six- 
teen, laughing,  coughing,  dragging  their  feet, 
shoving  the  heavy  benches,  dropping  song-books. 
They  greeted  the  snow-covered  trio  with  a  royal 
roar,  and  a  few  minutes  later  were  singing,  "Yes, 
we'll  gather  at  the  river,"  at  the  tops  of  their  dis- 
cordant voices.  Carol  sat  at  the  wheezy  organ, 
painfully  pounding  out  the  rhythmic  notes, — 
no  musician  she,  but  willing  to  do  anything  in 
a  pinch.  And  although  at  the  pretty  little 
church  up  in  the  Heights  she  never  attempted 
to  lift  her  voice  in  song,  down  at  the  mission 
she  felt  herself  right  in  her  element  and  sang 
with  gay  good-will,  happy  in  the  knowledge 
that  she  came  as  near  holding  to  the  tune  as 
half  the  others. 

Most  of  the  evening  was  spent  in  song,  David 
standing  in  the  narrow  doorway  between  the 
two  rooms,  nodding  this  way,  nodding  that, 
in  a  futile  effort  to  keep  a  semblance  of  time 
among  the  boisterous  worshipers.  A  short 
reading  from  the  Bible,  a  very  brief  prayer,  a 


84  SUNNY  SLOPES 

short,  conversational  story-talk  from  David,  and 
the  meeting  broke  up  in  wild^  clamor. 

Then  back  through  the  driving  snow  they 
made  their  way,  considering  the  evening  well 
worth  all  the  exertion  it  had  required. 

Once  inside  the  cozy  manse,  David  and  Carol 
hastily  changed  into  warm  dressing-gowns  and 
slippers  and  lounged  lazily  before  the  big  fire- 
place, sipping  hot  coffee,  and  talking,  always 
talking  of  the  work, — what  must  be  done  to- 
morrow, what  could  be  arranged  for  Sunday, 
the  young  people's  meeting,  the  primary  depart- 
ment, the  mission  study  class. 

And  Carol  brought  out  the  big  bottle  and 
administered  the  designated  teaspoonful. 

"For  you  must  quit  coughing,  David,"  she 
said.  "You  ruined  two  good  points  last  Sunday 
by  clearing  your  throat  in  the  middle  of  a 
phrase.  And  it  isn't  so  easy  making  points  as 
that." 

"Aren't    you    tired    of    hearing    me    preach, 


THE  HEAVY  YOKE  85 

Carol?  We've  been  married  a  whole  year  now. 
Aren't  you  finding  my  sermons  monotonous?" 

"David,"  she  said  earnestly,  resting  her  head 
against  his  shoulder,  partly  for  weariness,  partly 
for  the  pleasure  of  feeling  the  rise  and  fall  of 
his  breast, — "when  you  go  up  into  the  pulpit 
you  look  so  white  and  good,  like  an  apostle  or 
a  good  angel,  it  almost  frightens  me.  I  think, 
'Oh,  no,  he  isn't  my  husband,  not  really, — he  is 
just  a  good  angel  God  sent  to  keep  me  out  of 
mischief.'  And  while  you  are  preaching  I 
never  think,  'He  is  mine.'  I  always  think,  'He 
is  God's.'  " 

Tears  came  into  her  eyes  as  she  spoke,  and 
David  drew  her  close  in  his  arms. 

"Do  you,  sweetheart?  It  seems  a  terrible 
thing  to  stand  up  there  before  a  houseful  of 
people,  most  of  them  good,  and  clean,  and  full 
of  faith,  and  try  to  direct  their  steps  in  the 
broader  road.  I  sometimes  feel  that  men  are 
not  fit  for  it.  There  ought  to  be  angels  from 
Heaven." 


86  SUNNY  SLOPES 

"But  there  are  angels  from  Heaven  watching 
over  them,  David,  guiding  them,  showing  them 
how.  I  believe  good  white  angels  are  guiding 
every  true  minister, — not  the  bad  ones — ■  Oh,  I 
know  a  lot  about  ministers,  honey, — proud,  am- 
bitious, selfish,  vainglorious,  hypocritical,  even 
amorous,  a  lot  of  them, — but  there  are  others, 
true  ones,- — you,  David,  and  some  more.  They 
just  have  to  grow  together  until  harvest,  and 
then  the  false  ones  will  be  dug  up  and  dumped 
in  the  garbage." 

For  a  while  they  were  silent. 

Finally  he  asked,  smiling  a  little,  "Are  you 
getting  cramped,  Carol?  Are  you  getting  nar- 
row, and  settling  down  to  a  rut?  Have  you 
lost  your  enthusiasm  and  your  sparkle?'' 

Carol  laughed  at  him.  "David,  do  you  re- 
member the  first  night  we  were  married,  when 
we  knelt  down  together  to  say  our  prayers  and 
you  put  your  arm  around  my  shoulder,  and  we 
prayed  there,  side  by  side?  Dearest,  that  one 
little  fifteen  minutes  of  confidence  and  humility 


THE  HEAVY  YOKE  87 

and  heart-gratitude  was  worth  all  the  sparkle 
and  fire  in  the  world.  But  have  I  lost  it? 
Seems  to  me  I  am  as  much  a  shouting  Metho- 
dist as  ever." 

David  laughed,  coughing  a  little,  and  Carol 
bustled  him  off  to  bed,  sure  he  was  catching  a 
brand  new  cold,  and  berating  herself  roundly 
for  allowing  this  foolish  angel  of  hers  to  get 
a  chill  right  on  her  very  hands. 


CHAPTER   VII 
The  First  Step 

IT  was  Sunday  night  in  mid-winter.  After 
church,  David  remained  for  a  trustees'  meet- 
ing, and  Carol  walked  home  with  some  of  the 
younger  ones  of  the  congregation.  When  they 
asked  if  she  wished  them  to  wait  with  her  for 
David  she  shook  her  head,  smiling  gratefully 
but  with  weariness. 

"No,  thank  you.  I  am  going  right  straight 
to  bed.    I  am  tired." 

Into  the  little  manse  she  crept,  sinking  into 
the  first  easy  chair  that  presented  itself.  With 
slow  listless  fingers  she  removed  her  wraps, 
dropping  them  on  the  floor  beside  her, — labo- 
riously unbuttoned  and  removed  her  shoes,  and 
in  the  same  lifeless  manner  loosened  her  dress 
and  took  the  pins  from  her  hair.    Then,  holding 

88 


THE  FIRST  STEP  89 

her  garments  about  her,  she  went  in  search  of 
night  dress,  slippers  and  negligee.  A  few- 
seconds  later  she  returned  and  curled  herself 
up  with  some  cushions  on  the  floor  before  the 
fireplace. 

"Ought  to  make  some  coffee, — David's  so 
hungry  after  church,  —  too  —  dead  —  tired  — 
Ummmmm."  Her  voice  trailed  off  into  a  mur- 
mur and  she  closed  her  eyes. 

David  found  her  so,  soundly  sleeping,  her 
hair  curling  about  her  face.  He  knelt  down 
and  kissed  her.     She  opened  one  eye. 

"Coffee  ?"  she  queried  automatically. 

"I  should  say  not.  Go  to  bed."  He  sprawled 
full  length  on  the  floor,  his  head  against  her 
arm. 

"Worn  out,  aren't  you,  David?" 

"Well,  I'm  ready  for  bed.  Such  a  day!  Did 
you  have  time  for  Mrs.  Garder  before  En- 
deavor?" 

"Yes,  she  knew  me  too.  I  am  glad  I  went. 
She  had  been  waiting  for  me.    They  say  it  is 


90  SUNNY  SLOPES 

only  a  few  days  now.  The  way  of  a  minister's 
wife  is  hard  sometimes.  She  wanted  me  to 
sing  Lead  Kindly  Light,  and  was  so  puzzled 
and  confused  when  I  insisted  I  couldn't  sing. 
She  thought  ministers'  wives  always  sang.  I 
know  she  is  disappointed  in  me  now.  If  the 
Lord  foreknew  that  I  was  going  to  marry  a 
minister,  why  didn't  He  foreordain  that  I 
should  sing?" 

David  laughed,  but  attempted  no  explanation. 

"Did  you  get  along  all  right  at  the  Old 
Ladies'  Home?" 

"Oh,  fine.  The  girls  sang  beautifully,  and  I 
read  the  Bible  lesson  without  mispronouncing 
a  single  word.  Did  the  boys  miss  me  at  the 
Hollow?" 

"Yes,  they  said  they  needed  you  worse  than 
the  old  ladies.  Maybe  they  were  right.  We 
must  save  your  Sunday  afternoons  for  them 
after  this.    They  do  need  you." 

"Did  you  have  supper  with  the  Baldwins?" 


THE  FIRST  STEP  '     91 

"Yes.  You  stayed  with  Mrs.  Norris,  didn't 
you?" 

"Yes.    Um,  I  am  sleepy." 

David  coughed  slightly. 

"Get  up  off  this  floor,  David  Duke,"  scolded 
Carol.  "Don't  you  know  that  floors  are  always 
drafty?  I  am  surprised  at  you.  I  wish 
Prudence  was  here  to  make  you  soak  your 
feet  in  hot  water  and  drink  peppermint  tea." 

"You  work  too  hard,  Carol.  You  are  busy 
every  minute." 

"Yes.  I  have  to  be,  to  keep  in  hailing  dis- 
tance of  you.  You  usually  do  about  three 
things  at  once." 

"It's  been  a  good  year,  Carol.  You've  en- 
joyed it,  spite  of  everything,  haven't  you?" 

"It's  been  the  most  wonderful  year  one  could 
dream  of.  Even  Connie's  literary  imagination 
could  not  conjure  up  a  sweeter  one." 

"Always  something  to  do,  something  to  think 
of,  some  one  to  see, — always  on  the  alert,  to-day 
crowded  full,  to-morrow  to  look  forward  to." 


92  SUNNY  SLOPES 

"And  best  of  all,  David,  always  with  you, 
working  with  you,  taking  care  of  you, — always — 
Oh,  I  am  tired,  but  it  is  not  so  bad  being  tired  out 
when  you've  done  your  level  best." 

"Carol,  it  is  fine,  labor  is,  it  is  life.  I  can't 
imagine  an  existence  without  it.  Going  to  bed, 
worn  out  with  the  day,  rising  in  the  morning 
ready  to  plunge  in  over  one's  ears.  It  is  the 
only  real  life  there  is.  How  do  people  endure 
a  drifting  through  the  days,  with  never  any- 
thing to  do  and  never  worn  enough  to  sleep?" 

"I  don't  know,"  said  Carol  promptly.  "They 
aren't  alive,  that's  sure.  But  let's  go  to  bed. 
David,  please  get  off  that  floor  and  stop 
coughing." 

David  obediently  got  up,  lightly  dusting  his 
trousers  as  he  did  so.  Then  he  lifted  his  arms 
high  and  breathed  deeply.  "Anyhow  it  is  bet- 
ter to  be  tired  than  lazy,  isn't  it?" 


CHAPTER  VIII 
Reaction 


IY  /'ILL  you  have  this  woman?" 


W. 


David's  clear,  low  voice  sounded  over 
the  little  church,  and  the  bride  lifted  confident, 
trusting  eyes  to  his  face.  The  people  in  the 
pews  leaned  forward.  They  had  glanced  ap- 
provingly at  the  slender,  dark-eyed  girl  in  her 
bridal  white,  but  now  every  eye  was  centered 
on  the  minister.  The  hand  in  which  he  held 
the  Book  was  white,  blue  veined,  the  fingers  long 
and  thin.  His  eyes  were  nervously  bright,  with 
faint  circles  beneath  them. 

David  looked  sick. 

So  the  glowing,  sweet  faced  bride  was  neg- 
lected and  the  groom  received  scant  attention. 
The  minister  cleared  his  throat  slightly,  and  the 
service  went  smoothly  on  to  the  end. 

93 


94  SUNNY  SLOPES 

But  the  sigh  of  relief  that  went  up  at  its  con- 
clusion betokened  not  so  much  satisfaction  that 
another  young  couple  were  setting  forth  on  the 
troubled,  tempting  waters  of  matrimony,  as  that 
David  had  finished  another  service  and  all 
might  yet  be  well. 

Carol,  half  way  back  in  the  church,  had 
heard  not  one  word  of  the  service. 

"David  is  an  angel,  but  I  do  wish  he  were  a 
little  less  heavenly,"  she  thought  passionately. 
"He — makes  me  nervous." 

The  carriage  was  at  the  door  to  take  the 
minister  and  his  wife  to  the  Daniels  home  for 
the  bridal  reception,  but  David  said,  'Tell  him 
to  take  us  to  the  manse  first,  Carol.  I've  got 
to  rest  a  minute.   I'm  tired  to-night." 

In  the  living-room  of  the  manse  he  carefully 
removed  the  handsome  black  coat  in  which  he 
had  been  graduated  from  the  Seminary  in 
Chicago,  and  in  which  a  little  later  he  had  been 
ordained  for  the  ministry  and  installed  in  his 
church  in  the  Heights.     Still  later  he  had  worn 


REACTION  95 

it  at  his  marriage.  David  hung  it  over  the  back 
of  a  chair,  saying  as  he  did  so : 

"Wearing  pretty  well,  isn't  it?  It  may  be 
called  upon  to  officiate  in  other  crises  for  me, 
so  it  behooves  me  to  husband  it  well." 

Then  he  dropped  heavily  on  the  davenport 
before  the  fireplace,  with  Carol  crouching  on  a 
cushion  beside  him,  stroking  his  hand. 

"Let's  not  go  to  the  reception,"  she  said. 
"We've  congratulated  them  a  dozen  times  al- 
ready." 

"Oh,  we've  got  to  go,"  he  answered.  "They 
would  be  disappointed.  We'll  only  stay  a  few 
minutes.  Just  as  soon  as  I  rest — I  am  played 
out  to-night — it  is  only  a  step." 

They  slipped  among  the  guests  at  the  re- 
ception quietly  and  unobtrusively,  but  were  in- 
stantly surrounded. 

"A  good  service,  David,"  said  Mr.  Daniels, 
eying  him  keenly.  "You  make  such  a  pretty 
job  of  it  I'd  like  to  try  it  over  myself." 

"Now,  Dan,"  expostulated  his  anxious  little 


96  SUNNY  SLOPES 

wife.  "Don't  you  pay  any  attention  to  him, 
Mrs.  Duke,  he's  always  talking." 

"I  know  it,"  said  Carol  appreciatively.  "I 
never  pay  attention." 

"You  need  a  vacation,  Mr.  Duke,"  broke  in 
a  voice  impulsively. 

"I  know  it,"  assented  David.  "We'll  take  one 
in  the  spring, — and  you  can  help  pay  the  ex- 
penses." 

"You'd  better  take  it  now,"  suggested  Mrs. 
Baldwin.  "The  church  can  get  along  without 
you,  you  know."  * 

But  the  laugh  that  went  up  was  not  genuine. 
Many  of  them,  in  their  devotion  to  David,  won- 
dered if  the  church  really  could  get  along  with- 
out him. 

David  gaily  waved  aside  the  enormous  plate 
of  refreshments  that  was  passed  to  him.  "I 
had  my  dinner,  you  know,"  he  explained.  "Carol 
isn't  neglecting  me." 

"He  had  it,  but  he  didn't  eat  it, — and  it  was 
fried  chicken,"  said  Carol  sadly. 


REACTION  97 

A  few  minutes  later  they  were  at  home  again, 
and  before  Carol  had  finished  the  solemn  task 
of  nibbing  cold  cream  into  her  pretty  skin, 
David  was  sleeping  heavily,  his  face  flushed, 
his  hands  twitching  nervously  at  times. 

Carol  stood  above  him,  gazing  adoringly 
down  upon  him  for  a  while.  Then  shutting  her 
eyes,  she  said  fervently : 

"Oh,  God,  do  make  David  less  like  an  angel, 
and  more  like  other  men." 

Early  the  next  morning  she  was  up  and 
had  steaming  hot  coffee  ready  for  David  almost 
before  his  eyes  were  open. 

"To  crowd  out  that  mean  little  cough  that 
spoils  your  breakfast,"  she  said.  "I  shall  keep 
you  in  bed  to-day." 

All  morning  David  lounged  around  the  house, 
hugging  the  fireplace,  and  complained  of  feel- 
ing cold  though  it  was  a  warm  bright  day  late 
in  April,  and  although  the  fire  was  blazing.  In 
the  afternoon  he  took  off  his  jacket  and  loosened 
his  collar. 


98  SUNNY  SLOPES 

"It  certainly  is  hot  enough  now,"  he  declared. 
"Open  the  windows,  Carol, — I  am  roasting." 

"That  is  fever,"  she  announced  ominously. 
"Do  you  feel  very  badly?" 

"Well,  nothing  extra,"  he  assented  grudgingly. 

"David,  if  you  love  me,  let's  call  a  doctor. 
You  are  going  to  have  the  grippe,  or  pneumonia, 
or  something  awful,  and — if  you  love  me, 
David." 

The  pleading  voice  arrested  his  refusal  and 
he  gave  the  desired  consent,  still  laughing  at 
the  silly  notion. 

So  Carol  sped  next  door  to  the  home  of  Mr. 
Daniels,  the  fatherly  elder. 

"Mr.  Daniels,"  she  cried,  brightly  happy  be- 
cause David  had  consented  to  a  doctor,  and  a 
doctor  meant  health  and  strength  and  the  end 
of  that  hateful  little  cough.  "We  are  going  to 
have  a  doctor  see  David.  What  is  the  name  of 
that  man  down-town — the  one  you  think  is  sc 
wonderful  ?" 

Mr.  Daniels  gladly  gave  her  the  name,  warmly 


REACTION  99 

approving  the  move,  but  he  shook  his  head  a 
little  over  David.  "I  am  no  pessimist,"  he  said, 
"but  David  is  not  just  exactly  right." 

"The  doctor  will  fix  him  up,"  cried  Carol 
joyously.  "I  am  so  relieved  and  comfortable 
now.     Don't  try  to  worry  me." 

David  looked  nervous  when  Carol  gave  him 
the  name  of  the  physician  she  had  called. 

"He  is  a  Catholic, — and  some  of  the  mem- 
bers think — " 

"Of  course  they  do,  but  I  am  the  head  of  this 
house,"  declared  Carol,  standing  on  tiptoe  and 
assuming  her  most  lordly  air.  "And  Doctor 
O'Hara  is  the  best  in  town,  and  he  is  coming." 

"Oh,  all  right,  if  you  feel  like  that  about  it. 
I  don't  suppose  he  would  give  me  strychnine 
just  because  I  am  a  Presbyterian  minister." 

"Oh,  mercy!"  ejaculated  Carol.  "I  never 
thought  of  that.    Do  you  suppose  he  would?" 

But  David  only  laughed  at  her,  as  he  so 
often  did. 

When  Carol  met  the  doctor  at  the  door,  she 


100  SUNNY  SLOPES 

found  instant  reassurance  in  the  strong,  kind, 
clever  face. 

"It's  a  cold,"  she  explained,  "but  it  hangs  on 
too  long,  and  he  keeps  running  down-hill." 

The  doctor  looked  very  searchingly  into 
David's  pale  bright  face.  And  Carol  and 
David  did  not  know  that  the  extra  joke  and  the 
extravagant  cheer iness  of  his  voice  indicated 
that  things  looked  badly.  They  took  great  sat- 
isfaction in  his  easy  manner,  and  when,  after  a 
brief  examination,  he  said: 

"Now,  into  bed  you  go,  Mr.  Duke,  and  there 
you  stay  a  while.  Get  a  substitute  for  Sunday. 
You've  got  to  make  a  baby  of  a  bad  cold  and 
pet  it  a  little." 

David  and  Carol  laughed,  and  when  the  doctor 
went  away,  and  David  was  safely  in  bed,  Carol 
perched  up  beside  him  and  they  had  a  stirring 
game  of  parcheesi.  But  David  soon  tired,  and 
lay  very  quietly  all  evening,  eating  no  dinner, 
and  talking  very  little.  Telephone  messages 
from  "the  members"  came  thick  and  fast,  with 


REACTION  101 

offers  of  all  kinds  of  tempting  viands,  and 
callers  came  streaming  to  the  door.  But  Father 
Daniels  next  door  turned  them  every  one  away. 

"He  can't  talk  any  more,"  he  said  in  his 
abrupt,  yet  kindly  way.  "He's  just  worn  out 
talking  to  this  bunch, — that's  all  that  ails  him." 

Next  day  the  doctor  came  again,  gave  another 
examination,  and  said  there  was  some  little  con- 
gestion in  the  lungs. 

"Just  do  as  I  have  told  you, — keep  the  win- 
dows up,  drink  a  lot  of  fresh  milk,  and  eat  all 
the  raw  eggs  you  can  choke  down." 

"He  won't  eat  anything,"  said  Carol. 

"Let  him  fast  then,  and  he'll  soon  be  begging 
for  raw  eggs.    I'll  see  you  again  to-morrow." 

When  he  returned  next  day  there  was  a  little 
shadow  in  the  kind  eyes.  David  lay  on  the  cot, 
smiling,  and  Carol  stood  beside  him. 

"How  do  you  feel  to-day?" 

"Oh,  just  fine,"  came  the  ready  answer. 

But  the  shadow  in  the  doctor's  eyes  deepened. 

"The   meanest   part   of   a   doctor's   work   is 


102  SUNNY  SLOPES 

handing  out  death  blows  to  hope,"  he  said.  "But 
you  two  are  big  enough  to  take  a  hard  knock 
without  flinching,  and  I  won't  need  to  beat 
around  the  bush.  Mr.  Duke,  you  have  tuber- 
culosis." 

David  winched  a  little  and  Carol  clutched  his 
hand  spasmodically,  yet  they  smiled  quickly, 
comfortingly  into  each  other's  eyes. 

"That  does  not  mean  that  your  life  is  fan- 
ning out,  by  any  means,"  continued  the  doctor 
in  his  easy  voice.  "We've  got  a  grip  on  the 
disease  now.  You  are  getting  it  right  at  the 
start  and  you  stand  a  splendid  chance.  Your 
clean  life  will  help.  Your  laughing  wife  will 
help.  Your  confidence  in  a  Divine  Doctor  will 
help.  Everything  is  on  your  side.  If  you  can, 
I  think  I  should  go  out  west  somewhere, —  to 
New  Mexico,  or  Arizona.  It  is  low  here,  and 
damp, — lots  of  people-  chase  the  cure  here,  and 
find  it,  but  it  is  easier  out  there  where  the  air  is 
light  and  fine  and  the  temperature  is  even,  and 
where  doctors  specialize  on  lungs." 


REACTION  103 

"Yes,  yes,  indeed,  we  shall  go  right  away," 
declared  Carol  feverishly.     "Yes,  indeed." 

"Keep  on  with  my  treatment  while  you  are 
here.  And  get  out  as  soon  as  you  can.  Stay 
in  bed  all  the  time,  and  don't  bother  with  many 
visitors.  I  don't  need  to  tell  you  the  minor  pre- 
cautions. You  both  have  brains.  Be  sure  you 
use  them.  Now,  don't  get  blue.  You've  still  got 
plenty  to  laugh  at,  Mrs.  Duke.  And  I  give  you 
fair  warning,  when  you  quit  laughing  there's 
the  end  of  the  fight.  You  haven't  any  other 
weapon  strong  enough  to  beat  the  germs." 

It  was  hard  indeed  for  Carol  to  see  anything 
to  laugh  at  just  that  moment,  but  she  smiled, 
rather  wanly,  at  the  doctor  when  he  went  away. 

There  was  silence  between  them  for  a  moment. 

At  last,  she  leaned  over  him  and  whispered 
breathlessly,  "Maybe  it  is  really  a  good  thing, 
David.  You  did  need  a  vacation,  and  now  you 
are  bound  to  get  it." 

David  smiled  at  her  persistent  philosophy  of 
optimism. 


104  SUNNY  SLOPES 

Again  there  was  silence.  Finally,  with  an 
effort  he  spoke.  "Carol,  I — I  could  have 
thanked  God  for  letting  us  know  this  two  years 
ago.     Then  you  would  have  escaped." 

"David,  don't  say  that.  Just  this  minute  I 
was  thanking  Him  in  my  heart  because  we  didn't 
know  until  we  belonged  to  each  other." 

She  lifted  her  lips  to  him,  as  she  always  did 
when  deeply  moved,  and  instinctively  he  lowered 
his  to  meet  them.  But  before  he  touched  her 
he  stopped,  stricken  by  a  bitter  thought,  and 
pushed  her  face  away  almost  roughly. 

"Oh,  Carol,"  he  cried,  "I  can't.  I  can  never 
kiss  you  again.  I  have  loved  to  touch  you,  al- 
ways. I  have  loved  your  cool,  sweet,  powdery 
skin,  and  your  lips, — I  have  always  thought  of 
your  lips  as  a  crimson  bow  in  a  pale  pink  cloud, 
— I — I  have  loved  to  touch  you.  I  have  always 
adored  your  face,  the  look  of  it  as  well  as  the 
feel  of  it.    I  have  loved  to  kiss  you." 

Carol  slipped  an  arm  beneath  his  head  and 
strove  to  pull  his  hand  away  from  his  face. 


REACTION  105 

"Go  on  and  do  it,"  she  whispered  passionately. 
"I  am  not  afraid.  You  kissed  me  yesterday  and 
it  didn't  hurt  me.  Kiss  me,  David, — I  don't 
care  if  I  do  get  it." 

He  laughed  at  her  then,  uncertainly,  brokenly, 
but  he  laughed.  "Oh,  no  you  don't,  my  lady," 
he  said.  "You've  got  to  keep  strong  and  well 
to  take  care  of  me.  You  want  to  get  sick  so 
you'll  get  half  the  petting." 

Like  a  flash  came  the  revelation  of  what  her 
future  was  to  be.  "Oh,  of  course,"  she  cried, 
in  a  changed  voice.  "Of  course  we  must  be 
careful, — I  forgot.  I'll  have  to  keep  very  strong 
and  rugged,  won't  I?   Indeed,  I  will  be  careful." 

Then  they  sat  silent  again. 

"Out  west,"  he  said  at  last  dreamily.  "Out 
west.  I've  always  wanted  to  go  west.  Not 
just  this  way,  but — maybe  it  is  our  chance, 
Carol." 

"Of  course  it  is.  We'll  just  rest  and  play  a 
couple  of  months,  and  then  come  back  better 
than  ever.    No,  let's  get  a  church  out  there  and 


106  SUNNY  SLOPES 

stay  forever.  That  will  be  Safety  First.  Isn't 
it  grand  we  have  that  money  in  the  bank,  David  ? 
Think  how  solemn  it  would  be  now  if  we  were 
clear  broke,  as  we  were  before  we  decided  to 
economize  and  start  a  bank-account.' ■ 

David  nodded,  smiling,  but  the  smile  was 
grave.  The  little  bank-account  was  very  fine, 
but  to  David,  lying  there  with  the  wreck  of  his 
life  about  him,  the  outlook  was  solemn  in  spite 
of  it. 


CHAPTER  IX 
Upheaval 
J  lORTY-eight,  forty-nine,  fifty,  fifty-one, 


F 


fifty  -  two,  fifty  -  three, —  for  goodness' 
sake! — fifty-four,  fifty-five."  Carol  looked  help- 
lessly at  her  dusty  hands  and  mopped  her  face 
desperately  with  her  forearm. 

David,  watching  her  from  the  bed  in  the  ad- 
joining room,  gave  way  to  silent  laughter,  and 
she  resumed  her  solemn  count. 

"Forty-six,  forty — " 

"Fifty-six,"  he  called.  "Don't  try  any  trick- 
ery on  me." 

"Fifty-six,  fifty-seven,  fifty-eight,  fifty-nine, 
sixty."  She  sighed  audibly.  "Sixty-one,  sixty- 
two,  sixty-three,  sixty- four  —  sixty-four  per- 
fectly fresh  eggs,"  she  announced,  turning  to  the 
doorway   and    frowning   at   her   husband,    who 

107 


108  SUNNY  SLOPES 

still  laughed.  "Sixty-four  perfectly  fresh  eggs, 
all  laid  yesterday." 

"Now,  I  give  you  fair  warning,  my  dear,  I 
am  no  cold  storage  plant,  and  you  can't  make 
me  absorb  any  sixty- four  egg-nogs  daily  just 
to  even  up  the  demand  with  the  supply.  I  drank 
seven  yesterday,  but  this  is  too  much.  You  must 
seek  another  warehouse.,, 

"You  are  very  clever  and  facetious,  Davie, 
really  quite  entertaining.  But  what  am  I  to  do 
with  sixty- four  fresh  eggs?" 

"And  I  may  as  well  confess  frankly  that  I 
consider  a  minister's  wife  distinctly  out  of  her 
sphere  when  she  tries  to  corner  the  fresh  egg 
market,  particularly  at  the  present  price  of  ex- 
istence. It  isn't  scriptural.  It  isn't  orthodox. 
I  am  surprised  at  you,  Carol.  It  must  be  some 
more  Methodism  cropping  out.  I  never  knew  a 
Presbyterian  to  do  it." 

"And  as  for  milk—" 

"There  you  go  again, — milk.  Worse  and 
worse.     Yesterday  I  had  milk  toast,  and  milk 


UPHEAVAL  109 

custard,  and  fresh  milk,  and  buttermilk.  And 
here  you  come  at  me  again  first  thing  to-day. 
Milk!" 

"Seven  whole  quarts  have  arrived  this  morn- 
ing,— bless  their  darling  old  hearts." 

"The  cows?" 

"The  parishoners,"  Carol  explained  patiently. 
"Ever  since  the  doctor  said  fresh  milk  and  eggs, 
we've  been  flooded  with  milk  and — " 

"Pelted  with  eggs.  But  you  can't  pelt  any 
sixty- four  eggs  down  me." 

"David,"  she  said  reproachfully,  "I  must  con- 
fess that  you  don't  sound  very  sick.  The  doctor 
says,  'Take  him  west/  and  I  am  taking  you  if 
I  ever  get  rid  of  these  eggs.  But  I  do  think  it 
would  be  more  appropriate  to  take  you  to  a 
vaudeville  show  where  you  might  coin  some  of 
this  extravagant  humor.  There's  a  market  for 
it,  you  know." 

"Here  comes  Mrs.  Sater,  with  a  covered 
basket,"  announced  David,  glancing  from  the 
window.     "I  just  wonder  if  the  dear  kind  worn- 


110  SUNNY  SLOPES 

an  is  bringing  me  a  few  fresh  eggs.  You  know 
the  doctor  advised  me  to  eat  fresh  eggs,  and — " 

Carol  clutched  her  curly  head  in  despair. 
"Cock-a-doodle-doo,"  she  crowed. 

"You  mean,  'Cut-cut-cut-ca-duck-et,' "  re- 
proved David. 

Mrs.  Sater  paused  outside  the  manse  door  in 
blank  astonishment.  Dear,  precious  David  so 
terribly  ill,  and  poor  little  Carol  getting  ready 
to  take  him  away  to  a  strange  and  awful  country, 
and  the  world  full  of  sadness  and  weeping  and 
gnashing  of  teeth,  and  yet — from  the  open  win- 
dows of  the  manse  came  the  clear  ring  of  Carol's 
laughter,  followed  closely  by  David's  deeper 
voice.  What  in  the  world  was  there  to  laugh  at, 
since  tuberculosis  had  rapped  at  the  manse  door? 

They  were  young,  of  course,  and  they  were 
still  in  love, — that  helped.  And  they  had  the 
deathless  courage  of  the  young  and  loving.  But 
Mrs.  Sater  bet  a  dollar  she  wouldn't  waste  any 
time  laughing  if  tuberculosis  were  stalking 
through  her  home. 


UPHEAVAL  111 

"Come  in,"  said  Carol,  in  answer  to  her  sec- 
ond ring.  "We  saw  you  from  the  window,  but 
I  was  laughing  so  I  was  ashamed  to  open  the 
door.  David's  so  silly,  Mrs.  Sater.  Since  he 
isn't  obliged  to  strain  his  mental  capacity  by 
thinking  up  sermons,  he  has  developed  quite  a 
funny  streak.  Oh,  did  you  bring  us  some  nice 
fresh  eggs?  How  dear  of  you.  Yes,  the  doctor 
said  he  must  eat  lots  of  them." 

"They  were  just  laid  yesterday,"  said  Mrs. 
Sater  complacently.  "And  I  said  to  myself, 
'Nice  fresh  eggs  like  these  are  too  good  for  any- 
body less  than  a  preacher.'  So  I  brought  them. 
There's  just  half  a  dozen, — he  ought  to  eat  that 
many  in  one  day." 

"Oh,  yes,  easily.  He  is  very  fond  of  egg-nog." 

David  sputtered  feebly  among  the  pillows. 
"Oh,  easily,"  he  echoed  helplessly. 

"I  knew  a  woman  that  ate  eighteen  eggs  every 
day,"  said  Mrs.  Sater  encouragingly.  "She  got 
well  and  weighed  two  hundred  and  thirty 
pounds,  and  then  she  had  apoplexy  and  died." 


112  SUNNY  SLOPES 

David  turned  on  Carol  reproachfully.  "There 
you  see!  That's  what  comes  of  eating  raw 
eggs."  Then  he  added  suspiciously,  "Maybe  you 
knew  it  before  and  have  been  enticing  me  to  raw 
eggs  on  purpose." 

Both  Carol  and  David  seized  this  silly  pretext 
to  relieve  their  feelings,  and  laughed  so  heartily 
that  good  Mrs.  Sater  was  quite  concerned  for 
them.  She  had  heard  it  sometimes  affected  folks 
like  that, — a  great  nervous  or  mental  shock.  She 
looked  at  them  very  anxiously  indeed. 

"Are  you  selling  your  furniture  pretty  well?,, 
she  asked  nervously. 

"Oh,  just  fine.  Mr.  Barker  at  the  drug  store 
has  promised  to  fumigate  everything  after  we 
are  gone,  so  we  won't  scatter  any  germs  in  our 
wake."  Carol  spoke  hurriedly,  her  heart  swell- 
ing with  pity  as  she  saw  the  sudden  convulsive 
clutching  of  David's  hands  beneath  the  covers. 
"Mr.  Daniels  has  a  list  of  'who  bought  what,' 
and  will  see  that  everything  is  delivered  in  good 


UPHEAVAL  113 

shape.  Only,  we  take  the  money  ourselves  in 
advance.  Now  look  at  this  chair,  Mrs.  Sater, — ■ 
a  lovely  chair,"  she  rattled,  thinking  wretchedly 
of  that  contraction  of  David's  hands  and  the 
darkening  of  his  eyes.  "A  splendid  chair.  It 
isn't  sold  yet.  It  cost  us  eight  seventy-five  one 
year  ago,  and  we  are  selling  it  for  the  mere  pit- 
tance of  fivt  dollars  even, — we  make  it  even  be- 
cause we  haven't  any  change.  A  most  beautiful 
chair,  an  article  to  grace  any  home,  a  constant 
reminder  of  us,  a  chair  in  which  great  men  have 
sat, — Mr.  Daniels,  and  Mr.  Baldwin,  and  the 
horrible  gas  collector  who  has  made  life  wretched 
for  every  one  in  the  Heights,  and — all  for  five 
dollars,  Mrs.  Sater.    Can  you  resist  it  ?" 

Carol's  voice  took  on  at  new  ring  as  she  saw 
the  shadow  leave  David's  eyes,  and  his  lips  curve 
into  laughter  again. 

"Well,  I  swan,  Mrs.  Duke,  if  you  don't  beat 
all.  Yes,  I'll  take. that  chair.  It  may  not  be 
worth  five  dollars,  but  you  are." 

Carol  ostentatiously  collected  the  five  dollars, 


114  SUNNY  SLOPES 

doubled  it  carefully  into  a  tiny  bit,  and  tied  it 
in  the  corner  of  her  handkerchief. 

"My  money,  Mr.  David  Arnold  Duke,  and  I 
shall  buy  candy  and  talcum  with  it." 

Then  she  ran  into  the  adjoining  room  to  an- 
swer the  telephone. 

Mrs.  Sater  looked  about  her  hesitatingly  and 
leaned  forward. 

"David,"  she  said  in  a  low  voice,  "Carol 
ought  to  go  home  to  her  father.  It's  dangerous 
for  her  to  stay  with  you.  Everybody  says  so. 
Make  her  go  home  until  you  are  well.  She  may 
get  it  too  if  she  goes  along.  They'll  take  good 
care  of  you  at  the  Presbyterian  hospital  out 
there,  you  a  minister  and  all." 

The  laughter,  the  light,  left  David's  face  at 
the  first  word. 

"I  know  it,"  he  said  in  a  heavy  voice.  "I  have 
told  her  to  go  home.  But  she  won't  even  talk 
it  over.  She  gets  angry  if  I  mention  it.  Every 
one  tells  me  it  is  dangerous, — but  Carol  won't 
listen." 


UPHEAVAL  115 

"Just  until  you  get  well,  you  know." 

"I  shall  never  get  well  unless  she  is  with  me. 
But  I  am  trying  to  send  her  away.  What  can  I 
do?  I  can't  drive  her  off."  His  hands  closed 
and  then  relaxed,  lying  helplessly  on  the  covers. 

When  Carol  returned  she  looked  suspiciously 
from  the  stern  white  face  on  the  pillow  to  the 
disturbed  one  of  her  caller. 

"David  is  tired,  Mrs.  Sater,"  she  said  gently. 
"Let's  go  out  in  the  other  room  and  visit.  I 
have  made  him  laugh  too  much  to-day,  and  he 
is  weak.  Come  along  and  maybe  I  can  sell  you 
some  more  furniture."  Then  to  David,  brightly, 
"It  was  Mrs.  Adams,  David,  she  wanted  to  know 
if  we  needed  any  nice  fresh  eggs."  She  flashed 
a  smile  at  him  and  his  lips  answered,  but  his  eyes 
were  mute.  Carol  looked  back  at  him  from  the 
doorway,  questioning,  but  finally  followed  Mrs. 
Sater  into  the  next  room. 

"Mrs.  Sater,  you  will  excuse  me  now,  won't 
you?"  she  said.    "But  I  have  a  feeling  that  David 


116  SUNNY  SLOPES 

needs  me.  He  looks  so  tired.  You  will  come 
in  again,  and — " 

"Certainly,  my  dear,  David  first  by  all  means. 
Run  right  along.  And  if  you  need  any  more 
fresh  eggs,  just  let  me  know." 

"Yes,  thank  you,  yes." 

"Carol,"  whispered  the  kindly  woman  ear- 
nestly, "why  don't  you  go  home  and  stay  with 
your  father  until  David  is  better?  They  will 
take  such  good  care  of  him  at  the  hospital,  and 
he  will  need  you  when  he  is  well,  and  it  isn't 
safe,  Carol,  it  positively  is  not  safe.  Why  won't 
you  do  as  he  tells  you?" 

Carol  stood  up,  very  straight  and  very  tall. 
"Mrs.  Sater,"  she  said,  "you  know  I  am  an  old- 
fashioned  Methodist.  And  I  believe  that  God 
wanted  David  to  have  me  in  his  illness,  when 
he  is  idle.  If  He  hadn't,  the  illness  would  have 
come  before  our  marriage.  But  I  think  God 
foresaw  it  coming  and  thought  maybe  I  could  do 
David  good  when  he  was  laid  aside.  I  know  I 
am  a  silly  little  goose,  but  David  loves  me,  and 


UPHEAVAL  117 

is  happy  when  I  am  with  him,  and  enjoys  me 
more  than  anything  else  in  the  world.  I  am  go- 
ing with  him.  I  know  God  expects  me  to  do 
my  part." 

And  Mrs.  Sater  went  away,  after  kissing 
Carol's  cheek,  which  already  was  paling  a  little 
with  anxiety. 

Carol  ran  back  to  David  and  sat  on  the  floor 
beside  him,  pulling  his  hand  from  beneath  the 
cover  and  kissing  the  white,  blue-veined  fingers. 
She  crooned  and  gurgled  over  him  as  a  mother 
over  a  little  child,  but  did  not  speak  until  at  last 
he  turned  to  her  and  said  abruptly: 

"Carol,  won't  you  go  home  until  I  get  well? 
Please  dear,  for  my  sake." 

Carol  kissed  the  thumb  once  more  and 
frowned  at  him.  "You  want  to  flirt  with  the 
nurses  when  you  get  out  there,  and  are  trying 
to  get  me  out  of  the  road.  Every  one  says 
nurses  are  dangerous." 

"Carol,  please." 

"Mrs.  Sater  has  been  talking  to  you.     Oh,  I 


118  SUNNY  SLOPES 

knew  it.  She  is  a  nice,  kind,  Christian  woman, 
and  loves  us  both,  but,  David,  why  doesn't  God 
teach  some  people  to  mind  their  own  business? 
She  is  a  good  Christian,  I  know,  dear,  but  I  do 
believe  there  is  still  a  little  work  of  grace  to  be 
done  in  her." 

David  smiled  a  little,  sadly. 

"Carol,  it  would  break  my  heart  if  you  got 
this  from  me." 

"I  won't  get  it.  They  will  teach  us  how  to  be 
careful  and  sanitary,  and  take  proper  precau- 
tions, and  things  like  that.  I  am  going  to  be 
very,  very  careful.  Why,  honey,  I  won't  get 
it.  But,  David,  I  would  rather  get  it  than  go 
away  and  leave  you.  I  couldn't  do  that.  I 
should  never  be  happy  again  if  I  left  you  when 
you  were  needing  me." 

David  turned  his  face  to  the  wall.  "Maybe, 
dear,"  he  said  very  gently,  "maybe  it  would 
be  better  if  you  did  go  home, — better  for  me.  I 
need  perfect  rest  you  know,  and  we  talk  and 
laugh  so  much  and  have  such  good  times  to- 


UPHEAVAL  119 

gether.  I  don't  know,  possibly  I  might  get  well 
faster — alone." 

For  a  long  moment  Carol  gazed  at  him  in 
horror.  "David,"  she  gasped.  "Don't  say  that. 
Dear,  I  will  go  home  if  it  makes  you  worse  to 
have  me.  I  will  do  anything.  I  only  want  to 
help  you.  But  I  will  be  very  nice  and  quiet,  like 
a  mouse,  and  never  say  a  word,  and  not  laugh 
once,  if  you  take  me  with  you.  David,  do  I 
make  you  feel  sicker?  Does  my  chatter  weary 
you?    I  thought  I  was  helping  to  amuse  you." 

"Carol,  I  can't  lie  like  that  even  to  send  you 
away  from  me.  Maybe  I  ought  to,  but  I  can't. 
Why,  sweetheart,  you  are  the  only  thing  left  in 
the  world.  You  are  the  world  to  me  now.  Dear, 
I  said  it  for  your  sake,  not  for  mine,  Carol, 
never  for  mine." 

Slowly  the  smiles  struggled  through  the  an- 
guish in  her  face,  and  she  resumed  her  kissing  of 
his  fingers. 

"Silly  old  goose,"  she  murmured;  "big  old 
silly  goose.     Just   because   he's   a   preacher   he 


120  SUNNY  SLOPES 

wants  to  boss  all  the  time.  Can't  boss  me.  I 
won't  be  bossed.  I  like  to  boss  myself.  I  won't 
let  my  beautiful  old  David  go  off  out  there  to 
flirt  with  the  nurses  and  Indian  girls  and  who- 
ever else  is  out  there.  I  should  say  not.  I'll 
stick  right  along,  and  whenever  a  woman  turns 
our  way,  I'll  shout,   'Married !    He  is  mine !'  " 

David  laughed  at  her  passionate  discussion  to 
herself. 

"Besides,  I  have  been  learning  a  lot  of  things. 
I've  been  talking  to  the  doctor  privately  when 
you  couldn't  hear." 

"Indeed!" 

"Oh,  yes,  and  we  are  great  friends.  He  says 
if  we  just  live  clean,  white,  sanitary  lives,  I  am 
safe.  I  must  keep  strong  and  fat,  and  the  germs 
can't  get  a  start.  And  he  has  been  telling  me  lots 
of  nice  things  to  do.  David,  I  know  I  can  help 
you.  The  doctor  said  so.  He  says  I  must  be 
happy  and  gay,  and  be  positively  sure  you  will  be 
well  again  in  time,  and  I  can  do  you  more  good 
than  a  tonic.  Yes,  he  said  that  very  thing,  Doctor 


bo 

*T3 


(75 


UPHEAVAL  121 

O'Hara  did.  Now  please  beg  my  pardon,  and 
maybe  I'll  forgive  you." 

David  promptly  did,  and  peace  was  restored. 

A  committee  of  brotherly  ministers  was  sent 
out  from  the  Presbytery  to  find  how  things  were 
going  in  the  little  manse  in  the  Heights.  Very 
gently,  very  tenderly  they  made  their  inquiries 
of  Carol,  and  Carol  answered  frankly. 

"With  the  furniture  money  we  have  six  hun- 
dred dollars,"  she  told  them,  rather  proudly. 

"That's  just  fine.  It  will  take  you  to  Albu- 
querque and  keep  you  straight  for  a  few  months, 
and  by  that  time  we'll  have  things  in  hand  back 
here.  You  know,  Mrs.  Duke,  you  and  David 
belong  to  us  and  we  are  going  to  see  you 
through.  And  then  when  it  is  all  over  we'll  get 
him  a  church  out  there, — why,  everything  is 
going  splendidly.  Now  remember,  it  may  be  a 
few  months,  or  it  may  be  ten  years,  but  we  are 
back  of  you  and  we  are  going  to  see  you 
through.  Don't  ever  wonder  where  next  month's 
board  is  to  come  from.     It  will  come.     It  isn't 


122  SUNNY  SLOPES 

charity,  Mrs.  Duke.  It  is  just  the  big  brother- 
hood of  the  church,  that's  all.  We  are  going  to 
be  your  brothers,  and  fathers,  and — mothers, 
too,  if  you  will  have  us." 

The  devoted  mansers  rallied  around  them, 
weeping  over  them,  giving  them  good  advice 
along  with  other  more  material,  but  not  more 
helpful,  assistance  and  declaring  they  always 
knew  David  was  too  good  to  live.  And  when 
Carol  resentfully  assured  them  that  David  was 
still  very  much  alive,  and  maybe  wasn't  as  good 
as  they  thought,  they  retaliated  by  suggesting 
that  her  life  was  in  no  danger  on  that  score. 

On  the  occasion  of  Doctor  O'Hara's  last  visit, 
Carol  followed  him  out  to  the  porch. 

"You  haven't  presented  your  bill,"  she  remind- 
ed him.  "And  it's  a  good  thing  for  you  we  are 
preachers  or  we  might  have  slipped  away  in  the 
night." 

"I  haven't  any  bill  against  you,"  he  said, 
smiling  kindly  down  at  her. 


UPHEAVAL  123 

Carol  flushed.  "Doctor,"  she  protested.  "We 
expected  to  pay  you.  We  have  the  money.  We 
don't  want  you  to  think  we  can't  afford  it.  We 
knew  you  were  an  expensive  doctor,  but  we 
wanted  you  anyhow." 

He  smiled  again.  "I  know  you  have  the 
money,  but,  my  dear  little  girl,  you  are  going  to 
need  every  cent  of  it  and  more  too  before  you 
get  rid  of  this  specter.  But  I  couldn't  charge 
David  anything  if  he  were  a  millionaire.  Don't 
you  understand, — this  is  the  only  way  we  doc- 
tors have  of  showing  what  we  think  of  the  big 
work  these  preachers  are  doing  here  and  there 
around  the  country?" 

"But,  doctor,"  said  Carol  confusedly,  "we 
are — Presbyterians,  you  know — we  are  Protes- 
tants." 

The  doctor  laughed.  "And  I  am  a  Catholic. 
But  what  is  your  point?  David  is  doing  good 
work,  not  my  kind  perhaps,  and  not  my  way, 
but  I  hope,  my  dear,  we  are  big  enough  and 
broad  enough  to  take  off  our  hats  to  a  good 


124  SUNNY  SLOPES 

worker  whether  he  does  things  just  our  way  or 
not." 

Carol  looked  abashed.  She  caught  her  under 
lip  between  her  teeth  and  kept  her  eyes  upon  the 
floor  for  a  moment.  Finally  she  faced  him 
bravely. 

"I  wasn't  big  or  broad, — not  even  a  little 
teensy  bit,"  she  said  honestly.  "I  was  a  little, 
shut-in,  self-centered  goose.  But  I  believe  I  am 
learning  things  now.  You  are  grand,"  she  said, 
holding  out  her  slender  hand. 

The  doctor  took  it  in  his.  "Carol,  don't  forget 
to  laugh  when  you  get  to  Albuquerque.  You 
will  be  sick,  and  sorry,  and  there  will  be  sobs 
in  your  heart,  and  your  soul  will  cry  aloud,  but — 
keep  laughing,  for  David  is  going  to  need  it." 

Carol  went  directly  to  her  husband. 

"David,  I  am  learning  lots  of  perfectly  won- 
derful things.  If  I  live  to  be  a  thousand  years 
old, — oh,  David,  I  believe  by  that  time  I  can 
love  everybody  on  earth,  and  have  sympathy  for 
all  and  condemnation  for  none;  and  I  will  really 


UPHEAVAL  125 

know  that  nearly  every  one  in  the  world  is 
very  good,  and  those  that  are  not  are  pretty 
good." 

David  burst  into  laughter  at  her  words. 
"Poorly  expressed,  but  finely  meant,"  he  cried. 
"Are  you  trying  to  become  the  preacher  in  our 
family?" 

"All  packed  up  and  ready  to  start,"  she  said 
thoughtfully,  "and  to-morrow  night  we  leave 
our  darling  little  manse,  and  our  precious  old 
mansers  and  turn  cowboy.  Aren't  you  glad  you 
didn't  send  me  home?" 


CHAPTER  X 
Where  Health  Begins 

IN  a  little  white  cottage  tent,  at  the  end  of  a 
long  row  of  minutely  similar,  little  white  cot- 
tage tents,  sat  David  and  Carol  in  the  early- 
evening  of  a  day  in  May,  looking  wistfully  out 
at  the  wide  sweep  of  gray  mesa  land,  reaching 
miles  away  to  the  mountains,  blue  and  solemn  in 
the  distance. 

"Do — do  you  feel  better  yet,  David  ?"  Carol 
asked  at  last,  desperately  determined  to  break 
the  menacing  silence. 

David  drew  his  breath.  "I  can't  seem  to  no- 
tice any  difference  yet,"  he  replied  honestly.  "It 
doesn't  look  much  like  Missouri,  does  it?" 

"It  is  pretty, — very  pretty,"  she  said  reso- 
lutely. 

126 


WHERE  HEALTH  BEGINS         127 

"Carol,  be  a  good  Presbyterian  and  tell  the 
truth.  Do  you  wish  you  had  gone  home,  to  green 
and  grassy  Iowa?" 

"David  Duke,  I  am  at  home,  and  here  is 
where  I  want  to  be  and  no  place  else  in  the 
world.  It  is  big  and  bleak  and  bare,  but —  You 
are  going  to  get  well,  aren't  you,  David?" 

"Of  course  I  am,  but  give  me  time.  Even 
Miracle  Land  can't  transform  weakness  to  health 
in  two  hours." 

"I  must  go  over  to  the  office.  Mrs.  Hartley 
said  she  wanted  to  give  me  some  instructions." 
Carol  rose  quickly  and  stepped  outside  the  cot- 
tage. » 

Crossing  the  mesa  she  met  three  men  who 
stopped  her  with  a  gesture.  They  were  of  sadly 
similar  appearance,  tall,  thin,  shoulders  stooped, 
hair  dull  and  lusterless,  eyes  dry  and  bright. 
Carol  thought  at  first  they  were  brothers,  and 
so  they  were, — brothers  in  the  grip  of  the  great 
white  plague. 

"Are  you  a  lunger?"  ejaculated  one  of  them  in 


128  SUNNY  SLOPES 

astonishment,  noting  the  light  in  her  eyes  and 
the  flush  in  her  cheeks. 

"A— lunger?" 

"Yes, — have  you  got  the  bugs?" 

"The  bugs!" 

"Say,  are  you  chasing  the  cure?" 

"Of  course  not,"  interrupted  the  oldest  of  the 
three  impatiently.  "There's  nothing  the  matter 
with  her,  except  that  she's  a  lunger's  wife.  Your 
husband  is  the  minister  from  St.  Louis,  isn't 
he?" 

"Yes,— I  am  Mrs.  Duke." 

"I  am  Thompson.  I  used  to  be  a  medical  mis- 
sionary in  the  Ozarks.     How  is  your  husband?" 

"Oh,  he  is  doing  nicely,"  she  said  brightly, — 
the  brightness  assumed  to  hide  the  fear  in  her 
heart  that  some  day  David  might  look  like 
that. 

Thompson  laughed  disagreeably.  "Sure,  they 
always  do  nicely  at  first.  But  when  the  bugs  get 
'em,  they're  gone.  They  think  they're  better, 
they  say  they  are  getting  well, — God !" 


WHERE  HEALTH  BEGINS         129 

Carol  looked  at  him  with  questioning  re- 
proach in  the  shadowed  eyes.  "It  does  not  hurt 
us  to  hope,  at  least/'  she  said  gently.  "It  does 
no  harm,  and  it  makes  us  happier." 

"Oh,  yes,"  came  the  bitter  answer.  "Sure  it 
does.  But  wait  a  few  years.  Bugs  eat  hope  and 
happiness  as  well  as  lungs." 

Carol  quivered.  "You  make  me  afraid,"  she  said. 

"Thompson  is  an  old  croak,"  interrupted  one 
of  the  younger  men,  smiling  encouragement. 
"Don't  waste  your  time  on  him, — talk  to  me. 
He  is  such  a  grouch  that  he  gives  the  bugs  a  reg- 
ular bed  to  sleep  in.  He'd  have  been  well  years 
ago  if  he  hadn't  been  such  a  chronic  kicker. 
Cheer  up,  Mrs.  Duke.  Of  course  your  husband 
will  get  along.  Got  it  right  at  the  start,  didn't 
you?" 

"Oh,  yes,  right  at  the  very  start." 

"That's  good.  Most  people  fool  around  too 
long  and  then  it's  too  late,  and  all  their  own 
fault.  Sure,  your  husband  is  all  right.  It's  too 
bad  Thompson  can't  die,  isn't  it?     He's  got  too 


130  SUNNY  SLOPES 

mean  a  disposition  to  keep  on  living  with  white 
folks." 

"Oh,  I  shouldn't  say  that,"  disclaimed  Carol 
quickly.  "He — he  is  just  not  quite  like  the 
people  I  have  known.  I  didn't  know  how  to 
take  him.  He  was  only  joking  of  course."  She 
smiled  forgivingly  at  him,  and  Thompson  had 
the  grace  to  flush  a  little. 

"I  am  Jimmy  Jones,"  said  the  second  man. 
"I  was  a  bartender  in  little  old  Chi.  Far  cry 
from  a  missionary  to  a  bartender,  but  I'll  take 
my  chances  on  Paradise  with  Thompson  any  day." 

"A — a  bartender."  Carol  rubbed  her  slender 
fingers  in  bewilderment. 

"I  am  Arnold  Barrows,  formerly  a  Latin  pro- 
fessor. Amo,  mas,  mat,"  said  the  third  man 
suddenly.  "I  am  looking  for  my  Paradise  right 
here  on  earth,  and  I  am  sorry  you  are  married. 
My  idea  of  Paradise  is  a  girl  like  you  and  a 
man  like  me,  and  everything  else  go  hang." 

Carol  drew  herself  up  as  though  poised  for 
flight,  a  startled  bird  taking  wing. 


WHERE  HEALTH  BEGINS         131 

Thompson  and  Jones  laughed  at  her  horrified 
face,  but  the  professor  maintained  his  solemn 
gravity. 

"He  is  just  a  fool,'*  said  the  bartender  encour- 
agingly. "Don't  bother  about  him.  It  is  not 
you  in  particular,  he  is  nuts  on  all  the  girls. 
Cheer  up.  We're  not  so  bad  as  we  sound.  I 
have  a  cottage  near  you.  Tell  the  parson  I'll 
be  in  to-morrow  to  give  him  the  latest  light  on 
the  bonfires  in  perdition.  I  know  all  about 
them.  Tell  him  we'll  organize  a  combination 
prayer-meeting;  he  can  lead  the  prayer  and  I'll 
give  advanced  lessons  in  bunny-hugs  and  fancy- 
fizzes." 

"Good  night, — good  night, — good  night," 
gasped  Carol. 

Forgetting  her  errand  to  the  office,  she  rushed 
back  to  David,  to  safety,  to  the  sheltering  folds 
of  the  little  white  cottage  tent. 

He  questioned  her  curiously  about  her  experi- 
ence, and  although  she  tried  to  evade  the  harsher 
points,  he  drew  every  word  from  her  reluctant  lips. 


132  SUNNY  SLOPES 

"Lunger, — and  bugs, — and  chasers, — it  doesn't 
sound  nice,  David." 

"But  maybe  it  is  the  best  thing  after  all.  We 
are  not  used  to  it  yet,  but  I  suppose  it  is  better 
for  them  to  take  it  lightly  and  laugh  and  be 
funny  about  it.  They  have  to  spend  a  lifetime 
with  the  specter,  you  know, — maybe  the  joking 
takes  away  some  of  the  grimness." 

Carol  shivered  a  little. 

"Aren't  you  going  to  the  office  ?" 

"No,  I  am  not.  If  Mrs.  Hartley  wants  to  see 
me,  she  can  come  here.  I  am  scared,  honestly. 
Let's  do  something.    Let's  go  to  bed,  David." 

It  was  a  two-roomed  cottage,  a  thin  canvas 
wall  separating  the  rooms.  There  were  window- 
flaps  on  every  side,  and  conscientiously  Carol 
left  them  every  one  upraised,  although  she  had 
goose-flesh  every  time  she  glanced  into  the  black 
wall  of  darkness  outside  the  circle  of  their 
lights,  a  wall  only  punctuated  by  the  yellow  rays 
of  light  here  and  there,  where  the  more  riotous 
guests  of  the  institution  were  dissipating  up  to 
ttie  wicked  hour  of  nine  o'clock. 


WHERE  HEALTH  BEGINS         133 

"Good  night,  David, — you  will  call  me  if  you 
want  anything,  won't  you?"  And  Carol  leaped 
into  bed,  desperately  afraid  a  lizard,  or  a 
scorpion  or  a  centipede  might  lie  beneath  in  wait 
for  unwary  pink  toes  once  the  guarding  lights 
were  out. 

This  was  the  land  where  health  began, — the 
land  of  pure  light  air,  of  clear  and  penetrating 
sunshine,  the  land  of  ruddy  cheeks  and  bounding 
blood.  This  was  the  land  which  would  bring 
color  back  to  the  pale  face  of  David,  would  re- 
store the  vigor  to  his  step,  the  ring  to  his  voice. 
It  was  the  land  where  health  began. 

She  must  love  it,  she  would  love  it,  she  did  love 
it.  It  was  a  rich,  beautiful,  gracious  land, — gray, 
sandy,  barren,  but  green  with  promise  to  Carol 
and  to  David,  as  it  had  been  to  thousands  of 
others  who  came  that  way  with  a  burden  of 
weakness  buoyed  by  hope. 

A  shrill  shriek  sounded  outside  the  tent, — a 
dangerous  rustling  in  the  sand,  a  crinkling  of 
dead  leaves  in  the  corners  of  the  steps,  a  ring, 
a  roar,  a  wild  tumult.   Something  whirled  to  the 


134  SUNNY  SLOPES 

floor  in  David's  room,  papers  rattled,  curtains 
flapped,  and  there  was  a  metallic  patter  on  the 
uncarpeted  floor  of  the  tent.  Carol  gave  an  in- 
distinct murmur  of  fear  and  burrowed  beneath 
the  covers. 

It  was  David  who  threw  back  the  blankets  and 
turned  on  the  lights.  Just  a  sand-storm,  that 
was  all, — a  common  sand-storm,  without  which 
New  Mexico  might  be  almost  any  other  place  on 
earth.  David's  Bible  had  been  whirled  from  the 
window-ledge,  and  fine  sand  was  piling  in 
through  the  screens. 

Carol  withdrew  from  the  covers  most  cour- 
ageously when  she  heard  the  comforting  click 
of  the  electric  switch,  and  the  reassuring  squeak 
of  David's  feet  on  the  floor  of  the  room. 

"Everything's  all  right,"  he  called  to  her. 
"Don't  get  scared.  Will  you  help  me  put  these 
flaps  down?" 

Carol  leaped  from  her  bed  at  that,  and  ran  to 
lower  the  windows.     Then  she  sat  by  David's 


WHERE  HEALTH  BEGINS         135 

side  while  the  storm  raged  outside,  roaring  and 
piling  sand  against  the  little  tent. 

After  that,  to  bed  once  more,  still  determinedly 
in  love  with  the  land  of  health,  and  praying  fer- 
vently for  morning. 

Soon  David's  heavy  breathing  proclaimed  him 
sound  asleep.  But  sleep  would  not  come  to 
Carol.  She  gazed  as  one  hypnotized  into  the 
starry  brightness  of  the  black  sky  as  she  could 
see  it  through  the  window  beside  her.  How 
ominously  dark  it  was.  Softly  she  slipped  out 
of  bed  and  lowered  the  flaps  of  the  window. 
She  did  not  like  that  darkness.  After  the  storm, 
David  had  insisted  the  windows  must  be  opened 
again, — that  was  the  first  law  of  lungers  and 
chasers. 

She  was  cold  when  she  got  back  into  bed,  for 
the  chill  of  the  mountain  nights  was  new  to  her. 
And  an  hour  later,  when  she  was  almost  dozing, 
footsteps  prowled  about  the  tent,  loitering  in  the 
leaves  outside  her  western  window.  David  was 
sleeping,  she  must  not  interfere  with  a  moment 


136  SUNNY  SLOPES 

of  his  restoring  rest.  She  clasped  her  hands  be- 
neath the  covers,  and  .moistened  her  feverish 
lips.  If  it  were  an  Indian  lurking  there,  his 
deadly  tomahawk  upraised,  she  prayed  he  might 
strike  the  fatal  blow  at  once.  But  the  steps 
passed,  and  she  climbed  on  her  knees  and  lowered 
the  flaps  on  the  side  where  the  steps  sounded. 

Later,  the  sudden  tinkle  of  a  bell  across  the 
grounds  startled  her  into  sitting  posture.  No,  it 
wasn't  David,  after  all, — somebody  else, — some 
other  woman's  David,  likely,  ringing  for  the 
nurse.  Carol  sighed.  How  could  David  get 
well  and  strong  out  here,  with  all  these  other 
sick  ones  to  wring  his  heart  with  pity?  Were 
the  doctors  surely  right, — was  this  the  land  of 
health? 

Again  footsteps  approached  the  tent,  stirring 
up  the  dry  sand,  and  again  Carol  held  her  breath 
until  they  had  passed.  Then  she  grimly  closed 
the  windows  on  the  third  side  of  her  room, 
and  smiled  to  herself  as  she  thought,  "I'll  get 
them  up  again  before  David  is  awake." 


WHERE  HEALTH  BEGINS         137 

But  she  crept  into  bed  and  slept  at  last. 

Early,  very  early,  she  was  awakened  by  the 
sunlight  pouring  upon  the  flaps  at  the  windows. 
It  was  five  o'clock,  and  very  cold.  Carol  wrapped 
a  blanket  about  her  and  peeked  in  upon  her 
husband. 

"Good  morning,"  she  greeted  him  brightly. 
"Isn't  it  lovely  and  bright?  How  is  my  nice  old 
boy?    Nearly  well?" 

"Just  fine.    How  did  you  sleep  ?" 

"Like  a  top,"  she  declared. 

"Were  you  afraid?" 

"Urn,  not  exactly,"  she  denied,  glancing  at  him 
with  sudden  suspicion. 

"Did  the  wind  blow  all  your  flaps  down?" 

"How  did  you  know?" 

"Oh,  I  was  up  long  ago  looking  in  on  you. 
We'll  get  a  room  over  in  the  Main  Building  to- 
day. It  costs  more,  but  the  accommodations  are 
so  much  better.  We  are  directly  on  the  path 
from  the  street,  so  we  hear  every  passing  foot- 
step." 


138  SUNNY  SLOPES 

Carol  blushed.  "I  am  not  afraid,"  she  in- 
sisted. 

"We'll  get  a  room  just  the  same.  It  will  be 
easier  for  you  all  the  way  around." 

Carol  flung  open  the  door  and  gazed  out  upon 
the  land  of  health.  The  long  desolate  mesa  land 
stretched  far  away  to  the  mountains,  now  show- 
ing pink  and  rosy  in  the  early  sunshine.  The 
little  white  tents  about  them  were  as  suggestively 
pitiful  as  before.  There  were  no  trees,  no  flow- 
ers, no  carpeting  grass,  to  brighten  the  desola- 
tion. 

Bare,  bleak,  sandy  slopes  reached  to  the  moun- 
tains on  every  side.  David  sat  up  in  bed  and 
looked  out  with  her. 

"Just  a  long  bare  slope  of  sand,  isn't  it?"  she 
whispered.  "Sand  and  cactus, — no  roses  bloom- 
ing here  upon  the  sandy  slopes." 

"Yes,  just  sandy  slopes  to  the  mountains, — but 
Carol,  they  are  sunny, — bare  and  bleak,  but  still 
they  are  sunny  for  us.  Let's  not  lose  sight  of 
that." 


"D 


CHAPTER  XI 

The  Old  Teacher 

"Chicago,  Illinois. 
EAR  Carol  and  David — 
"It  is  most  remarkable  that  you  two  can 
keep  on  laughing  away  out  there  by  yourselves. 
It  makes  me  think  perhaps  there  is  something 
fine  in  this  being  married  business  that  sort  of 
makes  up  for  the  rest  of  it.  I  think  it  must  take 
an  exceptionally  good  eyesight  to  discern  sun- 
shine on  the  slopes  of  sickness.  If  I  were  travel- 
ing that  route,  I  am  convinced  I  should  find  it 
led  me  through  dark  valleys  and  over  stony  path- 
ways with  storm  clouds  and  thunders  and  light- 
nings smashing  all  around  my  head. 

"You  admonished  me  to  talk  about  myself  and 
leave  you  alone.  Well,  I  suppose  you  know  more 
about  yourselves  than  I  could  possibly  tell  you, 

139 


140  SUNNY  SLOPES 

and  since  it  is  your  own  little  baby  sister,  I  am 
sure  you  are  more  than  willing  to  turn  your  tele- 
scope away  from  the  sunny  slopes  a  while  for  a 
glimpse  of  my  business  dabbles. 

"This  is  Chicago. 

"Aunt  Grace  was  rendered  more  speechless  than 
ever  when  I  announced  my  intention  of  coming, 
and  Prudence  was  shocked.  But  father  and  I 
talked  it  over,  and  he  looked  at  me  in  that  funny 
searching  way  he  has  and  then  said : 

"  'Good  for  you,  Connie,  you  have  the  right 
idea.  Chicago  isn't  big  enough  to  swallow  you, 
but  it  won't  take  you  long  to  eat  Chicago  bodily. 
Of  course  you  ought  to  go.' 

"I  know  it  is  not  safe  to  praise  men  too  highly, 
they  are  so  easily  convinced  of  their  astounding 
virtues,  but  that  time  I  couldn't  resist  shaking 
hands  with  father  and  I  said,  and  meant  it : 

"  'Father,  you  are  the  only  one  in  the  world. 
I  don't  believe  even  the  Lord  could  make  your 
duplicate/ 

"Mr.  Nesbitt  was  very  angry  because  I  left 


THE  OLD  TEACHER  141 

them.  He  said  that  after  he  took  me,  a  stupid  little 
country  ignoramus,  and  made  something  out  of 
me,  my  desertion  was  nothing  short  of  rank  in- 
gratitude and  religious  hypocrisy  and  treason 
to  the  land  of  my  birth.  One  might  have  in- 
ferred that  he  picked  me  out  of  the  gutter, 
brushed  the  dirt  off,  smoothed  my  ragged  looks, 
and  seated  me  royally  in  his  stenographic  chair, 
and  made  a  business  lady  out  of  me.  But  it 
didn't  work. 

"I  came. 

"Mr.  Baker,  the  minister  there,  is  back  of  it. 
He  met  me  on  the  street  one  day. 

"  'I  hear  you  are  literary,'  he  said. 

"  'Well,  I  think  I  can  write/  I  answered  mod- 
estly. 

'Then  he  said  he  had  a  third-half -nephew  by 
marriage,  to  whom,  ground  under  the  heel  of 
financial  incompetency,  he  had  once  loaned  the 
startling  sum  of  fifty  dollars, — I  say  startling, 
because  it  startled  me  to  know  a  preacher  ever 
had  that  much  ready  cash  ahead  of  his  grocery 


142  SUNNY  SLOPES 

bill.  Anyhow,  the  third-half -nephew,  with  the 
fifty  dollars  as  a  nucleus, — I  think  Providence 
must  have  multiplied  it  a  little,  for  our  fifty  dol- 
lars never  accomplished  miracles  like  that, — but 
with  that  fifty  dollars  as  a  starter  he  did  a  little 
plunging  for  himself,  and  is  now  owner  and  ed- 
itor of  a  great  publishing  house  in  Chicago. 

"And  Mr.  Baker,  the  old  minister,  kept  him 
going  and  coming,  you  might  say,  by  sending  him 
at  frequent  intervals,  bright  and  budding  lights 
with  which  to  illuminate  his  publications.  It 
seems  the  third-half -nephew  by  marriage,  in  grat- 
itude for  the  fifty  dollars,  never  refused  a  posi- 
tion to  any  satellite  his  uncle  chose  to  recom- 
mend. And  Mr.  Baker  glowed  with  delight  that 
he  had  been  able,  from  the  unliterary  center  of 
Centerville  to  send  so  many  candles  to  shine  in 
the  chandelier  of  Chicago. 

"All  I  had  to  do  was  to  come. 

"As  I  said  before,  I  came. 

"I  went  out  to  Mrs.  Holly's  on  Prairie  Avenue 
and  the  next  morning  set  out  for  the  Carver 


THE  OLD  TEACHER  143 

Publishing  Company,  and  found  it,  with  the  as- 
sistance of  most  of  the  policemen  and  street-car 
conductors  as  well  as  a  large  number  of  ordi- 
nary pedestrians  encountered  between  Prairie  on 
the  South  Side,  and  Wilson  Avenue  on  the 
North.  I  asked  for  Mr.  Carver,  and  handed 
him  Mr.  Baker's  letter.  He  shook  hands  with 
me  in  a  melancholy  way  and  said: 

"  'When  do  you  want  to  begin  ?  Where  do  you 
live?' 

"  To-morrow.  I  have  a  room  out  on  the  south 
side,  but  I  will  move  over  here  to  be  nearer  the 
office/ 

"  'Hum, — you'd  better  wait  a  while.' 

"  'Isn't  it  a  permanent  position  ?'  I  asked  sus- 
piciously. 

"  'Oh,  yes,  the  position  is  permanent,  but  you 
may  not  be.' 

"  'Mr.  Baker  assured  me — ' 

"'Oh,  sure,  he's  right.  You've  got  the  job. 
But  so  far,  he  has  only  sent  me  nineteen,  and  the 
best  of  them  lasted  just  fourteen  days.' 


144  SUNNY  SLOPES 

"  'Then  you  are  already  counting  on  firing  me 
before  the  end  of  two  weeks/  I  said  indig- 
nantly. 

"  'No.  I  am  not  counting  on  it,  but  I  am  pre- 
pared for  the  worst.' 

"  'What  is  the  job?  What  am  I  supposed  to 
do?' 

"  'You  must  study  our  publications  and  do  a 
little  stenographic  work,  and  read  manuscripts 
and  reject  the  bum  ones, — which  is  an  endless 
task, — and  accept  the  fairly  decent  ones, — which 
takes  about  five  minutes  a  week, — and  read  ex- 
changes and  clip  shorts  for  filling,  and  write 
squibs  of  a  spicy  nature,  and  do  various  and 
sundry  other  things  and  you  haven't  the  slight- 
est idea  how  to  start.' 

"  'No,  I  haven't,  but  you  get  me  started,  and 
I'll  keep  going  all  right.' 

"The  next  morning  he  asked  how  long  it  took 
me  to  get  to  the  office  from  Prairie,  and  I  said : 

"  T  moved  last  night.  I  have  a  room  down  on 
Diversey  Boulevard  now/ 


THE  OLD  TEACHER  145 

"He  looked  me  over  thoughtfully.  Then  he 
said :  'You  ought  to  be  a  poet/ 

"  'Why  ?  I  haven't  any  poetic  ability  that  I 
know  of/ 

"  'Probably  not,  but  you  can  get  along  without 
that.    What  a  poet  needs  first  of  all  is  nerve/ 

"I  didn't  think  of  anything  apt  to  say  in  return 
so  I  got  to  work.  Day  after  day  he  tried  me 
out  on  something  new  and  watched  me  when  he 
thought  I  didn't  notice,  and  went  over  my  work 
very  carefully.  One  morning  he  asked  me  to 
write  five  hundred  words  on  'The  First  Job  in  a 
Big  City/  bringing  out  a  country  aspirant's  sen- 
sations on  the  occasion  of  his  first  interview  with 
a  prospective  employer. 

"I  still  felt  so  strongly  about  his  insolent  as- 
surance that  I  couldn't  hold  down  his  little  old 
job,  that  I  had  no  trouble  at  all  with  the  as- 
signment. He  read  it  slowly  and  made  no  com- 
ment, but  he  gave  it  a  place  in  the  current  issue. 
And  then  came  a  blessed  day  when  he  said, 
'Well,  you  are  on  for  good,  Miss  Starr.    I  now 


146  SUNNY  SLOPES 

believe  in  the  scriptural  injunction  about  seventy 
times  seven,  and  a  kind  Providence  cut  the  mar- 
gin down  for  me.  I  forgive  Uncle  Baker  for  the 
nineteen  atrocities  at  last.' 

"I  was  very  happy  about  it,  for  I  do  love  the 
work  and  the  others  in  the  office  are  splendid,  so 
keen  and  clever,  and  Mr.  Carver  is  really  won- 
derful. We  are  not  a  large  concern,  and  we 
have  to  lend  a  hand  wherever  hands  are  needed. 
So  I  am  getting  five  times  my  fifteen  dollars 
a  week  in  experience,  and  I  am  singing  inside 
every  minute  I  feel  so  good  about  everything. 
The  workers  are  all  efficient  and  enthusiastic,  and 
we  are  great  friends.  We  gossip  affectionately 
about  whoever  is  absent,  and  hold  a  jubilee  at 
the  restaurant  down-stairs  when  any  one  gets 
ahead  with  an  extra  story.  No  other  publishers 
have  come  rapping  at  my  door  in  a  mad  attempt 
to  steal  me  away  from  Mr.  Carver.  I  have  no 
bulky  mail  soliciting  stories  from  my  facile  pen. 
But  I  am  making  good  with  Mr.  Carver,  and 
that's  the  thing  right  now. 


THE  OLD  TEACHER  147 

"Have  I  fallen  in  love  yet?  Carol,  dear,  I  al- 
ways understood  that  when  folks  get  married 
they  lose  their  sentimentality.  Are  you  the  prov- 
ing exception?  My  acquaintance  with  Chicago 
masculinity  is  confined  to  the  office,  the  Metho- 
dist Church,  and  the  boarding-house.  The  office 
force  is  all  married  but  the  office  boy.  The 
Methodist  congregation  is  composed  of  women, 
callow  youths  and  bald  heads  of  families.  Wo- 
men are  counted  out,  of  necessity.  I  am  beyond 
callow  youths,  and  not  advanced  to  heads  of 
families.  Why,  I  haven't  a  chance  to  fall  in  love, 
— worse  luck,  too,  for  I  need  the  experience  in 
my  business. 

"At  the  boarding-house  I  do  have  a  little  ex- 
citement now  and  then.  The  second  night  after 
my  installation  a  man  walked  into  my  room  with- 
out knocking, — that  is,  he  opend  the  door. 

"  'Gee,  the  old  lady  wasn't  bluffing,'  he  said, 
in  a  tone  of  surprise. 

"It  was  early  in  the  evening  and  he  was  prop- 


148  SUNNY  SLOPES 

erly  dressed  and  looked  harmless,  so  I  wasn't 
frightened. 

"  'Good  evening,'  I  said  in  my  reserved  way. 

"  'Gave  you  my  room,  did  she  ?'  he  asked. 

"  'She  gave  me  this  one, — for  a  consideration.' 

"  'Yes,  it  is  mine/  he  said  sadly.  'She  has 
threatened  to  do  it,  lo,  these  many  years,  but  I 
never  believed  she  would.  Faith  in  fickle  human 
nature, — ah,  how  futile/ 

"'Yes?* 

"  'Yes.  You  see  now  and  then  I  go  off  with 
the  boys,  and  spend  my  money  instead  of  paying 
my  board,  and  when  I  come  back  I  expect  my 
room  to  be  awaiting  me.  It  always  has  been. 
The  old  lady  said  she  would  rent  it  the  next  time, 
but  she  had  said  it  so  many  times!  Well,  well, 
well.  Broke,  too.  It  is  a  sad  world,  isn't  it? 
Did  you  ever  pray  for  death  ?' 

"  'No,  I  did  not.  And  if  you  will  excuse  me,  I 
think  perhaps  you  had  better  fight  it  out  with 
the  landlady.  I  have  paid  a  month's  rent  in  ad- 
vance/ 


THE  OLD  TEACHER  149 

"  'A  month's  rent  F  He  advanced  and  shook 
hands  with  me  warmly  before  I  knew  what  he 
was  doing.  'A  month  in  advance.  It  is  an 
honor  to  touch  your  hand.  Alas,  how  many 
moons  have  waned  since  I  came  in  personal  con- 
tact with  one  who  could  pay  a  month  in  ad- 
vance.' 

"  The  landlady—' 

"  'Oh,  I  am  going.  No  room  is  big  enough 
for  two.  Lots  of  fellows  room  together  to  save 
money,  but  it  is  too  multum  in  too  parvum;  I 
think  I  prefer  to  spend  the  money.  I  have  never 
resorted  to  it,  even  in  my  brokest  days.  I  didn't 
leave  my  pipe  here,  did  I?' 

"  'I  haven't  seen  it/  I  said  very  coldly. 

"  'Well,  all  right.  Don't  get  cross  about  it. 
Out  into  the  dark  and  cold,  out  into  the  wintry 
night,  without  a  cent  to  have  and  hold,  but  land- 
ladies are  always  right.' 

"He  smiled  appealingly  but  I  frowned  at  him 
with  my  most  ministerial  air. 

"  'I  am  a  poet,'  he  said  apologetically.    'I  can't 


150  SUNNY  SLOPES 

help  going  off  like  that.  It  isn't  a  mental  aberra- 
tion.   I  do  it  for  a  living/ 

"I  had  nothing  to  say. 

"  'My  card/  He  handed  it  to  me  with  a  flour- 
ish, a  neatly  engraved  one,  with  the  word  *ad- 
vertisement,  in  the  corner.  I  should  have 
haughtily  spurned  it,  but  I  was  too  curious  to 
know  his  name.  It  was  William  Canfield 
Brewer. 

"  'Well,  good  night.  May  your  sleep  be  undis- 
turbed by  my  ghost  stalking  solitary  through 
your  slumbers.  May  no  fumes  from  my  pipe 
interfere  with  the  violet  de  parme  you  represent. 
If  you  want  any  advertising  done,  just  call  on 
me,  William  Canfield  Brewer.  I  write  poetry, 
draw  pictures,  make  up  stories,  and  prove  to  the 
absolute  satisfaction  of  the  most  skeptical  public 
that  any  article  is  even  better  than  you  say  it  is. 
I  command  a  princely  salary, — but  I  can't  com- 
mand it  long  enough.  Adieu,  I  go,  my  lady, 
fare  thee  well/ 

"  'Good  night/ 


THE  OLD  TEACHER  151 

"I  could  hardly  wait  for  breakfast,  I  was  so 
anxious  to  ask  about  him.  I  gleaned  the  follow- 
ing facts.  The  landlady  had  packed  his  belong- 
ings in  an  old  closet  and  rented  me  the  room  in 
his  absence,  as  he  surmised.  He  is  a  darling  old 
idiot  who  would  rather  buy  the  chauffeur  2>  cigar 
than  pay  for  his  board.  He  says  it  is  less  grubby. 
He  is  too  good  a  fellow  to  make  both  ends 
meet.  He  is  too  devoted  to  his  friends  to  neglect 
them  for  business.  He  can  write  the  best  ads 
in  Chicago  and  get  the  most  money  for  it,  but 
he  can't  afford  the  time.  Mrs.  Gaylord  is  a 
stingy  old  cat,  she  always  gets  her  money  if  she 
waits  long  enough,  and  he  pays  three  times  as 
much  as  anything  is  worth  when  he  does  pay. 
Mrs.  Gaylord's  niece  is  infatuated  with  him, 
without  reciprocation,  and  Mrs.  Gaylord  wanted 
her,  the  niece,  to  stick  to  the  grocer's  son;  she 
says  there  is  more  money  in  being  advertised 
than  advertising  others.  Wouldn't  Prudence 
faint  if  she  could  hear  this  gossip?  Don't  tell 
her, — and  I  wouldn't  repeat  it  for  the  world. 


152  SUNNY  SLOPES 

"I  hoped  he  would  come  back  for  another  room, 
— there  is  lots  of  experience  in  him,  I  am  sure, 
but  he  sent  for  his  things.  So  that  is  over.  I 
found  his  pipe.  And  I  am  keeping  it  so  if  he 
gets  smokey  and  comes  back  he  may  have  it. 

"Oh,  I  tell  you,  Carol,  Experience  may  teach 
in  a  very  expensive  school,  but  she  makes  the 
lessons  so  interesting,  it  is  really  worth  the  price. 

"Lots  of  love  to  you  both, 

"From 

"Connie." 


"I 


CHAPTER  XII 
The  Land  o'  Lungers 
S  Mrs.  Duke  in?" 


David  looked  up  quickly  as  the  door 
opened.  He  saw  a  fair  petulant  face,  with 
pouting  lips,  with  discontent  in  the  dark  eyes. 
He  did  not  know  that  face.  Yet  this  girl  had  not 
the  studied  cheerfulness  of  manner  that  marks 
church  callers  at  sanatoriums.  She  did  not  look 
sick,  only  cross.  Oh,  it  was  the  new  girl,  of 
course.  Carol  had  said  she  was  coming.  And 
she  was  not  really  sick,  just  threatened. 

"Mrs.  Duke  is  over  at  the  Main  Building,  but 
will  be  back  very  soon.  Will  you  come  in  and 
wait?" 

She  came  in  without  speaking,  pulled  a  chair 
from  the  corner  of  the  porch,  and  flounced  down 
among  the  cushions.  David  could  not  restrain  a 
smile.     She  looked  so  babyishly  young,  and  so 

153 


154  SUNNY  SLOPES 

furiously  cross.  To  David,  youth  and  cross- 
ness were  incongruous. 

"I  am  Nancy  Tucker,"  said  the  girl  at  last. 

"And  I  am  Mr.  Duke,  as  you  probably  sur- 
mise from  seeing  me  on  Mrs.  Duke's  porch.  She 
will  be  back  directly.  I  hope  you  are  not  in  a 
hurry." 

"Hurry!  What's  the  use  of  hurrying?  I  am 
twenty  years  old.  I've  got  a  whole  lifetime  to 
do  nothing  in,  haven't  I  ?" 

"You've  got  a  lifetime  ahead  of  you  all  right, 
but  whether  you  are  going  to  do  nothing  or  not 
depends  largely  on  you." 

"It  doesn't  depend  on  me  at  all.  It  depends 
on  God,  and  He  said,  'Nothing  doing.  Just  get 
out  and  rust  the  rest  of  your  life.  We  don't 
need  you.' " 

"That  does  not  sound  like  God,"  said  David 
quietly. 

"Well,  He  gave  me  the  bugs,  didn't  He?" 

"Oh,  the  bugs, — you've  got  them,  have  you? 


THE  LAND  O'  LUNGERS  155 

You  don't  look  like  it.  I  didn't  know  it  was  your 
health.  I  thought  maybe  it  was  just  your  dis- 
position." 

David  smiled  winningly  as  he  spoke,  and  the 
smile  took  the  sting  from  the  words. 

"The  bugs  are  worse  on  the  disposition  than 
they  are  on  the  lungs,  aren't  they?" 

"Well,  it  depends.  Carol  says  they  haven't 
hit  mine  yet."  He  lifted  his  head  with  boyish 
pride.  "She  ought  to  know.  So  I  don't  argue 
with  her.  I  am  willing  to  take  her  word  for 
it." 

Nancy  smiled  a  little,  a  transforming  smile 
that  swept  the  discontent  from  her  face  and  made 
her  nearly  beautiful.  But  it  only  lasted  a  mo- 
ment. 

"Oh,  go  on  and  smile.  It  did  me  good.  You 
can't  imagine  how  much  better  I  felt  directly." 

"There's  nothing  to  make  me  smile,"  cried 
Nancy  hotly. 

"You  may  smile  at  me,"  cried  Carol  gaily,  as 
she  ran  in.     "How  do  you  do?    You  are  Miss 


156  SUNNY  SLOPES 

Tucker,  aren't  you  ?  They  were  telling  me  about 
you  at  the  office." 

"Yes,  I  am  Miss  Tucker.  Are  you  Mrs.  Duke  ? 
You  look  too  young  for  a  minister's  wife." 

"Yes,  I  am  Mrs.  Duke,  and  I  am  not  a  bit 
too  young." 

"I  asked  them  if  I  should  call  a  doctor,  and 
they  said  that  could  wait  a  while.  First  of  all, 
they  said,  I  must  come  to  Room  Six  and  meet  the 
Dukes." 

Carol  looked  puzzled.  "They  didn't  tell  me 
that.    What  did  they  want  us  to  do  to  you?" 

"I  don't  know.  I  just  said,  'Well,  I  guess  I'd 
better  get  a  doctor  to  come  and  kill  me  off,'  and 
they  said,  'You  go  over  to  Number  Six  and  meet 
the  Dukes.'  " 

"They  said  lovely  things  about  you,"  Carol 
told  her,  smiling.  "And  they  say  you  will  be 
well  in  a  few  months, — that  you  haven't  T.  B.'s 
at  all  yet,  just  premonitions." 

The  good  news  brought  no  answering  light  to 
the  girl's  face. 


THE  LAND  O'  LUNGERS  157 

"They  are  nurses.  You  can't  believe  a  word 
they  say.  It  is  their  business  to  build  up  false 
hopes." 

"When  any  one  tells  me  David  is  worse,  I 
think,  That  is  a  wicked  story* ;  but  when  any  one 
says,  'He  is  better,'  I  am  ready  to  fall  on  my 
knees  and  salute  them  as  messengers  from 
Heaven,"  said  Carol. 

One  of  the  sudden  dark  clouds  passed  quickly 
overhead,  obscuring  the  glare  of  the  sunshine, 
darkening  the  yellow  sand. 

"I  hate  this  country,"  said  Nancy  Tucker.  "I 
hate  that  yellow  hot  sand,  and  the  yellow  hot 
sun,  and  the  lights  and  shadows  on  the  mountains. 
I  hate  the  mountains  most  of  all.  They  look  so 
abominably  cock-sure,  so  crowy,  standing  off 
there  and  glaring  down  on  us  as  if  they  were 
laughing  at  our  silly  little  fight  for  health." 

Carol  was  speechless,  but  David  spoke  up 
quickly. 

"That  is  strange;  Carol  and  I  think  it  is  a 
beautiful    country, — the    broad    stretch    of    the 


158  SUNNY  SLOPES 

mesa,  the  blue  cloud  on  the  mountains,  the  shad- 
ow in  the  canyons,  and  most  of  all,  the  sunshine 
on  the  slopes.  We  think  the  fight  against  T.  B.'s 
is  like  walking  through  the  dark  shade  in  the 
canyons,  and  then  suddenly  stepping  out  on  to  the 
sunny  slopes." 

"I  know  you  are  a  preacher.  I  suppose  it  is 
your  business  to  talk  like  that."  Then  when 
Carol  and  David  only  smiled  excusingly,  she 
said,  "Excuse  me,  I  didn't  mean  to  be  rude.  But 
it  is  hideous,  and — I  love  to  be  happy,  and 
laugh,—" 

"Go  on  and  do  it,"  urged  David.  "We've 
just  been  waiting  to  hear  you  laugh." 

"You  should  have  been  at  the  office  with  me," 
said  Carol.  "We  laughed  until  we  were  nearly 
helpless.  It  is  that  silly  Mr.  Gooding  again,  David. 
He  isn't  very  sick,  Miss  Tucker, — he  just  has  red 
rales.  I  don't  know  what  red  rales  are,  but  when 
the  nurses  say  that,  it  means  you  aren't  very  sick 
and  will  soon  be  well.  But  Gooding  is  what 
he   calls   'hipped   on   himself.'      He   is   always 


THE  LAND  O'  LUNGERS  159 

scared  to  death.  He  admits  it.  Well,  last  night 
they  had  lobster  salad,  a  silly  thing  to  have  in  a 
sanatorium.  And  Gooding  ordered  two  extra 
helpings.  The  waiter  didn't  want  to  give  it  to 
him,  but  Gooding  is  allowed  anything  he  wants 
so  the  waiter  gave  in.  In  the  night  he  had  a 
pain  and  got  scared.  He  rang  for  the  nurses, 
and  was  sure  he  was  going  to  die.  They  had 
to  sit  up  with  him  all  night  and  rub  him,  and 
he  groaned,  and  told  them  what  to  tell  his  mother 
and  said  he  knew  all  along  he  could  never  pull 
through.  But  the  nurse  gave  him  some  castor 
oil,  and  made  him  take  it,  and  finally  he  went 
to  sleep.  And  every  one  is  having  a  grand  time 
with  him  this  morning.,, 

Nancy  joined,  rather  grudgingly,  in  their 
laughter. 

"Oh,  I  suppose  funny  things  happen.  I  know 
that.  But  what's  the  use  of  laughing  when  we 
are  all  half  dead?" 

"I'm  not.  Not  within  a  mile  of  it.  You  brag 
about  yourself  if  you  like,  but  count  me  out." 


160  SUNNY  SLOPES 

"Hello,  Preacher!  How  are  you  making  it 
to-day?" 

They  all  turned  to  the  window,  greeting  warmly 
the  man  who  stood  outside,  leaning  heavily  on 
two  canes. 

"Miss  Tucker,  won't  you  meet  Mr.  Nevius?" 

In  response  to  the  repeated  inquiry,  David 
said,  "Just  fine  this  morning.    How  are  you?" 

"Oh,  I  am  more  of  an  acquisition  than  ever. 
I  think  I  have  a  bug  in  my  heart."  He  turned  to 
Miss  Tucker  cheerfully.  "I  am  really  the  pride 
of  the  institution.  I've  got  'em  in  the  lungs  and 
the  throat  and  the  digestive  apparatus,  and  the 
bones,  and  the  blood,  and  one  doctor  includes 
the  brain.  But  I  flatter  myself  that  I've  devel- 
oped them  in  a  brand-new  place,  and  I'm  trying 
to  get  the  rest  of  the  chasers  to  take  up  a  collec- 
tion and  have  me  stuffed  for  a  parlor  ornament." 

"How  does  a  bug  in  the  heart  feel?" 

"Oh,  just  about  like  love.  I  really  can't  tell 
any  difference  myself.  It  may  be  one,  it  may  be 
the  other.    But  whichever  it  is  I  think  I  deserve 


THE  LAND  O'  LUNGERS  161 

to  be  stuffed.  Hey,  Barrows!"  he  called  sud- 
denly, balancing  himself  on  one  cane  and  wav- 
ing a  summons  with  the  other.  "Come  across! 
New  lunger  is  here,  young,  good-looking.  I  saw 
her  first!    Hands  off!" 

Barrows  rushed  up  as  rapidly  as  circum- 
stances permitted,  and  looked  eagerly  inside. 

"It  is  my  turn,"  he  said  reproachfully.  "You 
are  not  playing  fair.  I  say  we  submit  this  to 
arbitration.  You  had  first  shot  at  Miss  Land- 
bury,  didn't  you  ?" 

"I  am  not  a  nigger  baby  at  a  county  fair, 
three  shots  for  ten  cents,"  interrupted  Nancy 
resentfully.  But  when  the  others  laughed  at  her 
ready  sally,  she  joined  in  good-naturedly. 

"You  don't  look  like  a  lunger,"  said  Barrows, 
eying  her  critically. 

"Mr.  Duke  thinks  I  came  out  for  the  benefit  of 
my  disposition." 

"Good  idea."  Nevius  jerked  a  note-book  from 
his  pocket  and  made  a  hurried  notation. 

"Taking  notes  for  a  sermon?"  asked  Carol. 


162  SUNNY  SLOPES 

"No,  for  a  sickness.  That's  where  I'll  get  'em 
next.  I  hadn't  thought  of  the  disposition. 
Thank  you,  thank  you  very  much.  I'll  have  it 
to-morrow.  Bugs  in  the  disposition, — sounds 
medical,  doesn't  it?" 

"Oh,  don't,  Mr.  Nevius,"  entreated  Carol. 
"Don't  get  anything  the  matter  with  your  dispo- 
sition. We  don't  care  where  else  you  collect 
them,  as  long  as  you  keep  on  making  us  laugh. 
But,  woodman,  spare  that  disposition." 

Nevius  pulled  out  the  note-book  and  crossed 
off  the  notation.  "There  it  goes  again,"  he  mut- 
tered. "Women  always  were  a  blot  on  the 
escutcheon  of  scientific  progress.  Just  to  oblige 
you,  I've  got  to  forego  the  pleasure  of  making 
a  medical  curiosity  of  myself.  Well,  well.  Wo- 
men are  all  right  for  domestic  purposes,  but  they 
sure  are  a  check  on  science." 

"They  are  a  check  on  your  bank-book,  too, 
let  me  tell  you,"  said  Barrows  quickly.  "I  never 
cared  how  much  my  wife  checked  me  up  on 


THE  LAND  O'  LUNGERS  163 

science,  but  when  she  checked  me  out  of  three 
bank-accounts  I  drew  the  line." 

"Speaking  of  death,"  began  Nevius  suddenly. 

"Nobody  spoke  of  it,  and  nobody  wants  to," 
"aid  CaroL 

"Miss  Tucker  suggests  it  by  the  forlornity  of 
her  attitude.  And  since  she  has  started  the  sub- 
ject, I  must  needs  continue.  I  want  to  tell  you 
something  funny.  You  weren't  here  when 
Reddy  Waters  croaked,  were  you,  Duke?  He 
had  the  cottage  next  to  mine.  I  was  in  bed  at 
the  time  with — well,  I  don't  remember  where  I 
was  breaking  out  at  the  time,  but  I  was  in  bed. 
You  may  have  noticed  that  I  have  what  might 
be  called  a  classic  pallor,  and  a  general  resem- 
blance to  a  corpse." 

Nancy  shivered  a  little  and  Carol  frowned, 
but  Nevius  continued  imperturbably.  "The  un- 
dertaker down-town  is  a  lunger,  and  a  nervous 
wreck  to  boot.  But  he  is  a  good  undertaker.  He 
works  hard.  Maybe  he  is  practising  up  so  he  can 
do  a  really  artistic  job  on  himself  when  the  time 


164  SUNNY  SLOPES 

comes.  Anyhow,  Reddy  died.  They  always 
come  after  them  when  the  rest  of  us  are  in  at 
dinner.  It  interferes  with  the  appetite  to  see  the 
long  basket  going  out.  So  when  the  rest  were 
eating,  old  Bennett  comes  driving  up  after 
Reddy.  It  was  just  about  dark,  that  dusky, 
spooky  time  when  the  shadows  come  down  from 
the  mountains  and  cover  up  the  sunny  slopes 
you  preachers  rave  about.  So  up  comes  Bennett, 
and  he  got  into  the  wrong  cottage.  First  thing 
I  knew,  some  one  softly  pushed  open  the  door, 
and  in  walked  Bennett  at  the  front  end  of  the 
long  basket,  the  assistant  trailing  him  in  the 
rear.  I  felt  kind  of  weak,  so  I  just  laid  there 
until  Bennett  got  beside  me.  Then  I  slowly  rose 
up  and  put  out  one  cold  clammy  hand  and  touched 
his.  Bennett  choked  and  the  assistant  yelled, 
and  they  dropped  the  basket  and  fled.  I  rang 
the  bell  and  told  the  nurse  to  make  that  crazy 
undertaker  come  and  get  the  right  corpse  that 
was  patiently  waiting  for  him,  and  she  called 
him  on  the  telephone.   Nothing  doing.   A  corpse 


THE  LAND  O'  LUNGERS  165 

that  didn't  have  any  better  judgment  than  that 
could  stay  in  bed  until  doomsday  for  all  of  him. 
So  they  had  to  get  another  undertaker.  But 
Bennett  told  her  to  get  the  basket  and  he  would 
send  the  assistant  after  it.  But  I  held  it  for 
ransom,  and  Bennett  had  to  pay  me  two  dollars 
for  it.,, 

His  auditors  wiped  their  eyes,  half  ashamed  of 
their  laughter. 

"It  is  funny,"  said  Nancy  Tucker,  "but  it 
seems  awful  to  laugh  at  such  things." 

"Awful !  Not  a  bit  of  it,"  declared  Barrows. 
"It's  religious.  Doesn't  it  say  in  the  Bible, 
'Laugh  and  the  world  laughs  with  you,  Die  and 
the  world  laughs  on'  ?" 

"I  laugh, — but  I  am  ashamed  of  myself," 
confessed  Carol. 

"What  do  women  want  to  spoil  a  good  story 
for?"  protested  Nevius.  "That's  a  funny  story, 
and  it  is  true.  It  is  supposed  to  be  laughed  at. 
And  Reddy  is  better  off.  He  had  so  many  bugs 
you  couldn't  tell  which  was  bugs  and  which  was 


166  SUNNY  SLOPES 

Reddy.  He  was  an  ugly  guy,  too,  and  he  was 
stuck  on  a  girl  and  she  turned  him  down.  She 
said  Reddy  was  all  right,  but  no  one  could  raise  a 
eugenical  family  with  a  father  as  ugly  as  Reddy. 
He  didn't  care  if  he  died.  Every  night  he  used 
to  flip  up  a  coin  to  see  if  he  would  live  till  morn- 
ing. He  said  if  he  got  off  ahead  of  us  he  was 
coming  back  to  haunt  us.  But  I  told  him  he'd 
better  fly  while  the  flying  was  good,  for  I  sure 
would  show  him  a  lively  race  up  to  the  rosy 
clouds  if  I  ever  caught  up.  I  knew  if  he  got 
there  first  he'd  pick  out  the  best  harp  and  leave 
me  a  wheezy  mouth  organ.  He  always  wanted 
the  best  of  everything." 

Just  then  the  nurse  opened  the  door. 

"Barrow9  and  Nevius,"  she  said  sternly. 
"This  is  the  rest  hour,  and  you  are  both  under 
orders.  Please  go  home  at  once  and  go  to  bed, 
or  I  shall  report  to  Mrs.  Hartley."  When  they 
had  gone,  she  looked  searchingly  into  the  face 
of  the  brand-new  chaser.  "How  are  you  feeling 
now?"  she  asked. 


THE  LAND  O'  LUNGERS  167 

"Oh,  pretty  well."  And  then  she  added  hon- 
estly, "It  really  isn't  as  bad  as  I  had  expected. 
I  think  I  can  stand  it  a  while." 

"Have  you  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  sunny 
slopes  yet?" 

Instinctively  they  turned  their  eyes  to  the 
distant  mountains,  with  the  white  crown  of  snow 
at  the  top,  and  beneath,  long  radiating  lines  of 
alternating  light  and  shadow,  stretching  down  to 
the  mesa. 

"The  shadows  look  pretty  dark,"  she  said, 
"but  the  sunny  slopes  are  there  all  right.  But  I 
was  happy  at  home;  I  had  hopes  and  plans — " 

"Yes,  we  all  did,"  interrupted  David  quickly. 
"We  were  all  happy,  and  had  hopes  and  plans, 
and —  But  since  we  are  here  and  have  to  stay, 
isn't  it  God's  blessing  that  there  is  sunshine  for 
us  on  the  slopes?" 


V 


CHAPTER  XIII 
Old  Hopes  and  New 

ALONG  toward  the  middle  of  the  summer 
Carol  began  eating  her  meals  on  the 
porch  with  David,  and  they  fixed  up  a  small  table 
with  doilies  and  flowers,  and  said  they  were 
keeping  house  all  over  again.  Sometimes,  when 
David  was  sleeping,  Carol  slipped  noiselessly 
into  the  room  to  turn  over  with  loving  fingers 
the  soft  woolen  petticoats,  and  bandages,  and  bon- 
nets, and  daintily  embroidered  dresses, — gifts  of 
the  women  of  their  church  back  in  the  Heights 
in  St.  Louis. 

About  David  the  doctors  had  been  frank  with 
Carol. 

"He  may  live  a  long  time  and  be  comfortable, 
and  enjoy  himself.  But  he  will  never  be  able  to 
do  a  man's  work  again." 

168 


OLD  HOPES  AND  NEW  169 

"Are  you  sure?"  Carol  had  taken  the  blow 
without  flinching. 

"Oh,  yes.     There  is  no  doubt  about  that." 

"What  shall  I  do?" 

"Just  be  happy  that  he  is  here,  and  not  suf- 
fering. Love  him,  and  amuse  him,  and  enjoy 
him  as  much  as  you  can.  That  is  all  you  can  do." 

"Let's  not  tell  him,"  she  suggested.  "It  would 
make  him  so  sorry." 

"That  is  a  good  idea.  Keep  him  in  the  dark. 
It  is  lots  easier  to  be  happy  when  hope  goes 
with  it." 

But  long  before  this,  David  had  looked  his 
future  in  the  face.  "I  have  been  set  aside  for 
good,"  he  thought.  "I  know  it,  I  feel  it.  But 
Carol  is  so  sure  I  will  be  well  again!  She  shall 
never  know  the  truth  from  me." 

When  Carol  intensely  told  him  he  was  strong- 
er, he  agreed  promptly,  and  said  he  thought  so 
himself. 

"Oh,  blessed  old  David,  I'm  so  glad  you  don't 
know  about  it,"  thought  Carol. 


170  SUNNY  SLOPES 

"My  sweet  little  Carol,  I  hope  you  never  find 
out  until  it  is  over,"  thought  David. 

Sometimes  Carol  stood  at  the  window  when 
David  was  sleeping,  and  looked  out  over  the  long 
mesa  to  the  mountains.  Her  gaze  rested  on  the 
dark  heavy  shadows  of  the  canyons.  To  her, 
those  dark  valleys  in  the  mountains  represented 
a  buried  vision, — the  vision  of  David  strong  and 
sturdy  again,  springing  lightly  across  a  tennis 
court,  walking  briskly  through  mud  and  snow  to 
conduct  a  little  mission  in  the  Hollow,  standing 
tall  and  straight  and  sunburned  in  the  pulpit 
swaying  the  people  with  his  fervor.  It  was  a 
buried  hope,  a  shadowy  canyon.  Then  she  looked 
up  to  the  sunny  slopes,  stretching  bright  and 
golden  above  the  shadows  up  to  the  snowy  crest 
of  the  mountain  peaks.  Sunny  slopes, — a  new 
hope  rising  out  of  the  old  and  towering  above 
it.  And  then  she  always  went  back  to  the  chest 
in  the  corner  of  the  room  and  fingered  the  tiny 
garments,  waiting  there  for  service,  with  tender 
ringers. 


OLD  HOPES  AND  NEW  171 

And  once  in  a  while,  not  very  often,  David 
would  say,  smiling,  "Who  knows,  Carol,  but  you 
two  may  some  day  do  the  things  we  two  had 
hoped  to  do?" 

A  few  weeks  later  Aunt  Grace  came  out  from 
Mount  Mark,  and  in  her  usual  soft,  gentle  way 
drifted  into  the  life  of  the  chasers  in  the  sanato- 
rium. She  told  of  the  home,  of  William's  work 
and  tireless  zeal,  of  Lark  and  Jim,  of  Fairy  and 
Babbie,  of  Prudence  and  Jerry.  She  talked  most 
of  all  of  Connie. 

"That  Connie!  She  is  a  whole  family  all  by 
herself.  She  is  entirely  different  from  the  rest 
of  you.  She  is  unique.  She  doesn't  really  live 
at  all,  she  just  looks  on.  She  watches  life  with 
the  cool  critical  eyes  of  a  philosopher  and  a 
stoic  and  an  epicure  all  rolled  into  one.  She 
comes,  she  sees,  she  draws  conclusions.  William 
and  I  hold  our  breath.  She  may  set  the  world 
on  fire  with  her  talent,  or  she  may  become  a 
demure  little  old  maid  crocheting  jabots  and 
feeding  kittens.    No  one  can  foretell  Connie." 


172  SUNNY  SLOPES 

And  Carol,  in  a  beautiful,  heavenly  relief  at 
having  this  blessed  outlet  for  her  pent-up  feel- 
ings, reclined  in  a  big  rocker  on  the  porch,  and 
smiled  at  Aunt  Grace,  and  glowed  at  David,  and 
declared  the  sunny  slopes  were  so  brilliant  they 
dazzled  her  eyes. 

There  came  a  day  when  she  packed  a  suit- 
case, and  petted  David  a  little  and  gave  him  very 
strict  instructions  as  to  how  he  was  to  conduct 
himself  in  her  absence,  and  went  away  over  to 
the  other  building,  and  settled  down  in  a  pleasant 
up-stairs  room  with  Aunt  Grace  in  charge.  For 
several  days  she  lounged  there  quietly  content, 
gazing  for  hours  out  upon  the  marvelous  mesa 
land,  answering  with  a  cheery  wave  the  gay 
greetings  shouted  up  to  her  from  chasers  loiter- 
ing beneath  her  windows. 

But  one  morning,  she  watched  with  weary 
throbbing  eyes  as  Aunt  Grace  and  a  nurse  and  a 
chamber  maid  carefully  wrapped  up  a  tiny  pink 
flannel  roll  for  a  visit  to  Room  Number  Six  in 
the  McCormick  Building. 


OLD  HOPES  AND  NEW  173 

"Tell  him  I  am  just  fine,  and  it  is  a  lucky 
thing  that  he  likes  girls  better  than  boys,  and 
we  think  she  is  going  to  look  like  me.  And 
be  particularly  sure  to  tell  him  she  is  very,  very 
pretty,  the  doctor  and  the  nurse  both  say  she  is, 
— David  might  overlook  it  if  his  attention  were 
not  especially  called  to  it." 

Three  weeks  later,  the  suit-case  was  packed 
once  more,  and  Carol  was  moved  back  across  the 
grounds  to  Number  Six  and  David,  where 
already  little  Julia  was  in  full  control. 

"Aren't  you  glad  she  is  pretty,  David?"  de- 
manded Carol  promptly.  "I  was  so  relieved. 
Most  of  them  are  so  red  and  frowsy,  you  know. 
I've  seen  lots  of  new  ones  in  my  day,  but  this 
is  my  first  experience  with  a  pretty  one." 

The  doctor  and  the  nurse  had  the  temerity  to 
laugh  at  that,  even  with  Julia,  pink  and  dimply, 
right  before  them.  "Oh,  that  old,  old  story," 
said  the  doctor.  "I'm  looking  for  a  woman  who 
can  class  her  baby  with  the  others.  I  intend  to 
use  my  fortune  erecting  a  monument  to  her  if 


174  SUNNY  SLOPES 

I  find  her, — but  the  fortune  is  safe.  Every 
woman's  baby  is  the  only  pretty  one  she  ever 
saw  in  her  life." 

Carol  and  David  were  a  little  indignant  at 
first,  but  finally  they  decided  to  make  allowances 
for  the  doctor, — he  was  old,  and  of  course  he 
must  be  tired  of  babies,  he  had  ushered  in  so 
many.  They  would  try  and  apply  their  Christian 
charity  to  him,  though  it  was  a  great  strain  on 
their  religion. 

But  what  should  be  done  with  Julia?  David 
was  so  ill,  Carol  so  weak,  the  baby  so  tender. 
Was  it  safe  to  keep  her  there?  But  could  they 
let  that  little  rosebud  go? 

"Why,  I  will  just  take  her  home  with  me," 
said  Aunt  Grace  gently.  "And  we'll  keep  her 
until  you  are  ready.  Oh,  it  won't  be  a  bit  of 
trouble.    We  want  her." 

That  settled  it.    The  baby  was  to  go. 

"For  once  in  my  life  I  have  made  a  sacrifice," 
said  Carol  grimly.  "I  think  I  must  be  improv- 
ing.    I  have  allowed  myself  to  be  hurt,   and 


OLD  HOPES  AND  NEW  175 

crushed,  and  torn  to  shreds,  for  the  good  of 
some  one  else.     I  certainly  must  be  improving." 

Later  she  thought,  "She  will  know  all  her 
aunties  before  she  knows  me.  She  will  love  them 
better.  When  I  go  home,  she  will  not  know  me, 
and  will  cry  for  Aunt  Grace.  She  will  be  afraid 
of  me.  Really,  some  things  are  very  hard." 
But  to  David  she  said  that  of  course  the  doc- 
tors were  right,  and  she  and  David  were  so  old 
and  sensible  that  it  would  be  quite  easy  to  do  as 
they  were  bid.  And  they  were  so  used  to  having 
just  themselves  that  things  would  go  on  as  they 
always  had. 

But  more  nights  than  one  she  cried  herself  to 
sleep,  craving  the  touch  of  the  little  rosebud 
baby  learning  of  motherhood  from  some  one  else. 


"D 


CHAPTER  XIV 

Neptune's  Second  Daughter 

"Chicago,  Illinois. 
EAREST  Carol  and  David:— 

'Carol,  dear,  an  awful  thing  has  hap- 
pened. Do  you  remember  the  millionaire's  son 
who  discovered  me  up  the  cherry  tree  years  ago 
when  I  was  an  infant?  He  comes  to  see  me 
now  and  then.  He  is  very  nice  and  attentive, 
and  all  of  my  friends  have  selected  the  color 
schemes  for  their  boudoirs  in  my  forthcoming 
palatial  home.  One  night  he  telephoned  and 
said  his  mother  was  in  town  with  him,  and  they 
should  like  to  come  right  up  if  I  did  not  mind. 
I  did  not  know  he  was  in  town,  I  hardly  knew 
he  had  a  mother,  and  I  was  in  the  act  of 
shampooing  my  hair.  Phyllis  was  making  candy, 
and  Gladys  was  reading  aloud  to  us  both. 
Imagine  the  mother  of  a  millionaire's  son 
coming  right  up,  and  I  in  a  shampoo. 

176 


NEPTUNE'S  SECOND  DAUGHTER    177 

"  'Oh,'  I  wailed,  'I  haven't  anything  to  wear, 
and  I  am  not  used  to  millionaires'  sons'  mothers, 
and  I  won't  know  what  to  say  to  her/ 

"  'Leave  it  to  us,  Connie  f  cried  my  friends 
valiantly. 

"Gladys  whirled  the  magazine  under  the  bed, 
and  Phyllis  turned  out  the  electricity  under  the 
chafing-dish  and  put  the  candy  in  the  window 
to  finish  at  a  later  date. 

"Did  I  tell  you  about  our  housekeeping  ven- 
ture? Gladys  is  a  private  secretary  to  something 
down-town  and  gets  an  enormous  salary,  thirty 
a  week.  Phyllis  is  an  artist  and  has  a  studio 
somewhere,  and  we  are  great  friends.  So  we 
took  a  cunning  little  apartment  for  three  months, 
and  we  all  live  together  and  cook  our  meals  in 
the  baby  kitchenette  when  we  feel  domestic,  and 
dine  out  like  princesses  when  we  feel  lordly.  We 
have  the  kitchenette,  and  a  bathroom  with  two 
kinds  of  showers,  and  a  bedroom  apiece,  though 
mine  is  really  a  closet,  and  two  sitting-rooms, 
so  two  of  us  can  have  beaus  the  same  night. 


178  SUNNY  SLOPES 

If  we  feel  the  need  of  an  extra  sitting-room — 
that  is,  three  beaus  a  night — we  draw  cuts  to 
see  who  has  to  resort  to  the  park,  or  a  movie, 
or  the  ice-cream  parlor,  or  the  kitchenette.  Our 
time  is  up  next  week  and  we  shall  return  mod- 
estly to  our  boarding-houses.  It  is  great  fun, 
but  it  is  expensive,  and  we  are  so  busy. 

"We  have  lovely  times.  The  girls  are — not 
like  me.  They  are  really  society  buds,  and  wear 
startling  evening  gowns  and  go  places  in  taxis, 
and  are  quite  the  height  of  fashion.  It  is  a 
wonder  they  put  up  with  me  at  all.  Still  every 
establishment  must  have  at  least  one  Cinderella. 
But  let  me  admit  honestly  and  Methodistically 
that  I  do  less  Cinderelling  than  either  of  them. 
Gladys  darns  my  stockings,  and  Phyllis  makes 
my  bed  fully  half  the  time. 

"Anyhow,  when  Andrew  Hedges,  millionaire's 
son,  telephoned  that  his  mother  was  coming  up, 
they  fell  upon  me,  and  one  rubbed  and  one 
fanned,  and  they  both  talked  at  once,  and  in 
the  end  I  agreed  to  leave  myself  in  their  hand9. 


NEPTUNE'S  SECOND  DAUGHTER    179 

They  knew  all  about  millionaires'  sons'  mothers, 
it  seemed,  and  would  fix  me  up  just  exactly 
O.  K.  right  Gladys  and  I  are  the  same  size, 
and  she  has  an  exquisite  semi-evening  gown  of 
Nile  green  and  honest-to-goodness  lace  which 
I  have  long  admired  humbly  from  my  corner 
among  the  ashes.  Just  the  thing.  I  should  wear 
it,  and  make  the  millionaire's  son's  mother  look 
like  twenty  cents. 

"Wickedly  and  wilfully  I  agreed.  So  when 
the  hair  was  dry  enough  to  manage,  they 
marched  me  into  Gladys'  room — the  only  one 
of  the  three  capable  of  accommodating  three  of 
us — and  turned  the  mirrors  to  the  wall.  I  pro- 
tested at  that.  I  wanted  to  see  my  progress 
under  their  skilful  fingers. 

"  'No,'  said  Phyllis  sagely.  'It  looks  horrible 
while  it  is  going  on.  You  must  wait  until  you 
are  finished,  and  then  burst  upon  your  own  en- 
raptured vision.    You  will  enchant  yourself.' 

"Gladys  seconded  her  and  I  assented  weakly. 
I  know  I  am  not  naturally  weak,  Carol,  but  the 


180  SUNNY  SLOPES 

thought  of  a  millionaire's  son's  mother  affected 
me  very  strangely.  It  took  all  the  starch  out 
of  my  knees,  and  the  spine  out  of  my  backbone. 
"By  this  time  I  was  established  in  Gladys' 
green  slippers  with  rhinestone  buckles,  and 
Gladys  was  putting  all  of  her  own  and  Phyllis' 
rings  on  my  fingers,  and  Phyllis  was  using  a 
crimping  iron  on  my  curls.  I  was  too  curly 
already,  but  Phyllis  said  natural  curliness  was 
not  the  thing  any  more.  Then  Gladys  began 
dabbing  funny  sticky  stuff  all  over  my  fingers, 
and  scratching  my  eyebrows,  and  powdering 
about  twenty  layers  on  my  face  and  throat. 
After  that,  she  rubbed  my  finger  nails  until 
I  could  almost  see  what  they  were  doing  to  me. 
I  never  thought  I  had  much  hair,  but  when 
Phyllis  got  through  with  me  I  could  hardly 
carry  it.  The  ladies  in  Hawaii  who  carry  bushel 
baskets  on  their  heads  will  tell  you  how  I  felt. 
And  whenever  I  moved  it  wabbled.  But  they 
both  clapped  their  hands  and  said  I  looked  like 


NEPTUNE'S  SECOND  DAUGHTER    181 

a  dream,  and  of  course  I  would  have  acquired 
another  bushel  had  they  advised  it. 

"I  trusted  them  because  they  look  so  won- 
derful when  they  are  finished, — just  right, — 
never  too  much  so. 

"Our  bell  rang  then,  and  Phyllis  answered  and 
said,  Tell  them  Miss  Starr  will  be  in  in  a 
moment.' 

"There  is  a  general  apartment  maid,  and  when 
we  wish  to  be  very  perfectly  fine,  we  borrow 
her, — for  a  quarter. 

"When  I  knew  they  had  arrived,  I  leaped  up, 
panic-stricken,  and  dived  head  first  into  that 
pile  of  Nile  green  silk  and  real  lace.  They 
rescued  me  tenderly,  and  pushed  me  in,  and 
hooked  me  here,  and  buttoned  me  there,  both 
panting  and  gasping,  I  madly  hurrying  them  on, 
because  I  can't  get  over  that  silly  old  parsonage 
notion  that  it  isn't  good  form  to  keep  folks 
waiting. 

"  There  you  are,'  cried  Gladys. 

"  'Fly,'  shouted  Phyllis. 


182  SUNNY  SLOPES 

"Out  I  dashed,  recollected  myself  in  the  bath- 
room, and — yes,  I  did  that  foolish  thing,  Carol. 
Your  vanity  would  have  saved  you  such  a 
blunder.  But  I  tore  myself  from  their  blood- 
stained hands,  and  went  in  to  meet  a  millionaire's 
son's  mother  without  looking  myself  over  in  the 
mirror. 

"When  I  parted  the  curtains,  Andy  leaped  to 
his  feet  with  his  usual  quick  eagerness,  but  he 
stopped  abruptly  and  his  lips  as  well  as  his  eyes 
widened. 

"  'How  do  you  do  f  I  said,  moistening  my 
lips  which  already  felt  too  wet,  only  I  didn't 
know  what  was  the  matter  with  them.  I  held 
out  my  hand,  unwontedly  white,  and  he  took  it 
flabbily,  instead  of  briskly  and  warmly  as  he 
usually  did. 

"  'Mother/  he  said,  'I  want  you  to  meet  Miss 
Starr/ 

"She  wasn't  at  all  the  kind  of  millionaire's 
son's  mother  we  have  read  about.  She  had  no 
lorgnette,  and  she  did  not  look  me  over  super- 


NEPTUNE'S  SECOND  DAUGHTER    183 

ciliously.  But  she  had  turned  my  way  as  though 
confident  of  being  pleased,  and  her  soft  eyes 
clouded  a  little,  though  she  smiled  sweetly.  Her 
hair  was  silver  white  and  curled  over  her  fore- 
head and  around  her  ears.  She  had  dimples,  and 
she  stuck  her  chin  up  like  a  girl  when  she 
laughed.  She  wore  the  softest,  sweetest  kind 
of  a  wistaria  colored  silk.  I  was  charmed  with 
her.     It  could  not  have  been  mutual. 

"She  held  out  her  hand,  smiling  so  gently, 
still  with  the  cloud  in  her  eyes,  and  we  all  sat 
down.  She  did  not  look  me  over,  though  she 
must  have  yearned  to  do  so.  But  Andy 
looked  me  over  thoroughly,  questioningly,  from 
the  rhinestone  pin  at  the  top  of  the  sway- 
ing hair,  to  the  tips  of  my  Nile  green  shoes. 
I  tried  to  talk,  but  my  hair  wabbled  so,  and 
little  invisible  hair  pins  kept  visibleing  them- 
selves and  sliding  into  my  lap  and  down  my 
neck,  and  my  lips  felt  so  moist  and  sticky, 
and  my  skin  didn't  fit  like  skin,  and  —  still 
I  was  determined  to  live  up  to  my  part,  and 


184  SUNNY  SLOPES 

I  talked  on  and  on,  and  —  then,  quite  sud- 
denly, I  happened  to  glance  into  a  mirror  be- 
side me.  There  was  some  one  else  in  the  room. 
Some  one  in  a  marvelous  dress,  with  a  white- 
washed throat,  with  lips  too  red,  and  cheeks 
too  pink,  and  brows  too  black,  some  one  with  an 
unbelievable  quantity  of  curls  on  top  of  her, 
and — I  turned  around  to  see  whom  it  might  be. 
Nobody  there.  I  looked  back  to  the  mirror.  I 
was  not  dreaming, — of  course  there  was  some 
one  in  the  room.  No,  the  room  was  empty  save 
we  three.  I  turned  suspiciously  to  Mrs.  Hedges. 
She  was  still  in  her  place,  a  smiling  study  in 
wistaria  and  silver  gray.  I  looked  at  Andy, 
immaculate  in  black  and  white.  Then — sicken- 
ing realization. 

"I  stood  up  abruptly.  The  atrocity  in  the 
mirror  rose  also. 

"  That  isn't  1/  I  cried  imploringly. 

"Mrs.  Hedges  looked  startled,  but  Andy  came 
to  my  side  at  once. 

"  'No,    it    certainly    isn't,'    he    said    heartily. 


NEPTUNE'S  SECOND  DAUGHTER    185 

'What  on  earth  have  you  been  doing  to  your- 
self, Connie  ?' 

"I  went  close  to  the  mirror,  inspecting  myself, 
grimly,  piteously.  I  do  not  understand  it  to  this 
day.  The  girls  do  the  same  things  to  them- 
selves and  they  look  wonderful, — never  like 
that. 

"I  rubbed  my  lips  with  my  fingers,  and  under- 
stood the  moisture.  I  examined  my  brows,  and 
knew  what  the  scratching  meant.  I  shook  the 
pile  of  hair,  and  a  shower  of  invisible  hair  pins 
rewarded  me.  I  brushed  my  fingers  across  my 
throat,  and  a  cloud  of  powder  wafted  outward. 

"What  does  it  say  in  the  Bible  about  the  way 
of  the  unrighteous?  Well,  I  know  just  as  much 
about  the  subject  as  the  Bible  does,  I  think. 
For  a  time  I  was  speechless.  I  did  not  wish  to 
blame  my  friends.  But  I  could  not  bear  to  think 
that  any  one  should  carry  away  such  a  vision 
of  one  of  father's  daughters. 

"  'Take  a  good  look  at  me  please/  I  said, 
laughing,   at  last,   'for  you  will  never  see  me 


186  SUNNY  SLOPES 

again.  I  am  Neptune's  second  daughter.  I 
stepped  full-grown  into  the  world  to-night  from 
the  hands  of  my  faithless  friends.  Another 
step  into  my  own  room,  and  the  lovely  lady  is 
gone  forever/ 

"Andy  understands  me,  and  he  laughed.  But 
his  mother  still  smiled  the  clouded  smile. 

"I  hurled  myself  into  the  depths  of  self- 
abasement.  I  spared  no  harsh  details.  I  told 
of  the  shampoo,  and  the  candy  on  the  window- 
ledge,  the  magazine  under  the  bed.  Religiously 
I  itemized  every  article  on  my  person,  giving 
every  one  her  proper  due.  Then  I  excused  my- 
self and  went  up-stairs.  I  sneaked  into  my  own 
room,  removed  the  dream  of  Nile  green  and 
lace  and  jumped  up  and  down  on  it  a  few  times, 
in  stocking  feet,  so  the  girls  would  not  hear, — 
and  relieved  my  feelings  somewhat.  I  think  I 
had  to  resort  to  gold  dust  to  resurrect  my  own 
complexion, — not  the  best  in  the  world  perhaps, 
but  mine,  and  I  am  for  it.  I  combed  my  hair. 
I  donned  my  simple  blue  dress, — cost  four-fifty 


NEPTUNE'S  SECOND  DAUGHTER    187 

and  Aunt  Grace  made  it.  I  wore  my  white  kid 
slippers  and  stockings.  My  re-debut — ever  hear 
the  word? — was  worth  the  exertion.  Andy's 
face  shone  as  he  came  to  meet  me.  His  mother 
did  not  know  me. 

"T  am  Miss  Starr/  I  said.  The  one  and 
only/ 

"  'Why,  you  sweet  little  thing/  she  said, 
smiling,  without  the  cloud. 

"We  went  for  a  long  drive,  and  had  supper 
down-town  at  eleven  o'clock,  and  she  kept  me 
with  her  at  the  hotel  all  night.  It  was  Saturday. 
I  slept  with  her  and  used  all  of  her  night  things 
and  toilet  articles.  I  told  her  about  the  mag- 
nificent stories  I  am  going  to  write  sometime, 
and  she  told  me  what  a  darling  Andy  was  when 
he  was  a  baby,  and  between  you  and  me,  I 
doubt  if  they  have  a  million  dollars  to  their 
name.  Honestly,  Carol,  they  are  just  as  nice 
as  we  are. 

"They  stayed  in  Chicago  three  days,  and  she 
admitted  she  came  on  purpose  to  get  acquainted 


188  SUNNY  SLOPES 

with  me.  She  made  me  promise  to  spend  a 
week  with  them  in  Cleveland  when  I  can  get 
away,  and  she  gave  me  the  dearest  little  pearl 
ring  to  remember  her  by.  But  I  wonder — I 
wonder —  Anyhow  I  can't  tell  him  until  he  asks 
me,  can  I  ?  And  he  has  never  said  a  word.  You 
know  yourself,  Carol,  you  can't  blurt  things  out 
at  a  man  until  he  gives  you  a  chance.  So  my 
conscience  is  quite  free.  And  she  certainly  is 
adorable.  Think  of  a  mother-in-law  like  that, 
pink  and  gray,  with  dimples.  Yes,  she  is  my 
ideal  of  a  mother-in-law.  I  haven't  met  'father' 
yet,  but  he  doesn't  need  to  be  very  nice.  A  man 
can  hide  a  hundred  faults  in  one  fold  of  a 
pocketbook  the  size  of  his. 

"Lots  of  love  to  you  both, — and  you  write  to 
Larkie  oftener  than  you  do  to  me,  which  isn't  fair, 
for  she  has  a  husband  and  a  baby  and  is  within 
reaching  distance  of  father,  and  I  am  an  orphan, 
and  a  widow,  and  a  stranger  in  a  strange  land. 

"But  I  love  you  anyhow. 

"Connie/' 


CHAPTER  XV 
The  Second  Step 


THEY  sat  on  canvas  chairs  on  the  sand  out- 
side the  porch  of  the  sanatorium,  warmly 
wrapped  in  rugs,  for  the  summer  evenings  in 
New  Mexico  are  cold,  and  watched  the  shadows 
of  evening  tarnish  the  gold  of  the  mesa.  Like 
children,  they  held  hands  under  the  protecting 
shelter  of  the  rug.  They  talked  of  little  Julia  off  in 
Mount  Mark,  how  she  was  growing,  the  color  of 
her  eyes,  the  shape  of  her  fingers.  They  talked  of 
her  possible  talents,  and  how  they  could  best  be 
developed,  judging  as  well  as  they  could  in  ad- 
vance by  the  assembled  qualities  of  all  her  rela- 
tives. David  suggested  that  they  might  be  preju- 
diced in  her  favor  a  little,  for  as  far  as  they 
could  determine  there  was  no  avenue  of  ability 
closed  to  her,  but  Carol  stanchly  refused  to  ad- 

189 


190  SUNNY  SLOPES 

mit  the  impeachment.  They  talked  of  the  schools 
best  qualified  to  train  her,  of  the  teachers  she 
must  have,  of  the  ministers  they  must  demand 
for  her  spiritual  guidance.  They  talked  of  the 
thousand  bad  habits  of  other  little  girls,  and 
planned  how  Julia  should  be  led  surely,  sweetly 
by  them. 

Then  they  were  silent,  thinking  of  the  little 
pink  rosebud  baby  as  she  had  left  them. 

The  darkness  swept  down  from  the  mountains 
almost  as  sand-storms  come,  and  Carol  leaned  her 
head  against  David's  shoulder.  She  was  happy. 
David  was  so  much  better.  The  horrible  tem- 
perature was  below  ninety-nine  at  last,  and  David 
was  allowed  to  walk  about  the  mesa,  and  his 
appetite  was  ravenous.  Maybe  the  doctors  were 
wrong  after  all.  He  was  certainly  on  the  high- 
road to  health  now.  She  was  so  glad  David  had 
not  known  how  near  the  dark  valley  he  had 
passed. 

David  was  rejoicing  that  he  had  never  told 
Carol  how  really  ill  he  had  been.     She  would 


THE  SECOND  STEP  191 

have  been  so  frightened  and  sorry.  He  pictured 
Carol  with  the  light  dying  out  in  her  eyes,  with 
pallor  eating  the  roses  in  her  cheeks,  with  languor 
in  her  step,  and  dullness  in  her  voice, — the  Carol 
she  would  surely  have  been  had  she  known  that 
David  was  walking  under  the  shadow  of  death. 
David  was  very  happy.  He  was  so  much  better, 
of  course  he  would  soon  be  himself.  Things 
looked  very  bright.  Somehow  to-night  he  did 
not  yearn  so  much  for  work.  It  was  Carol  that 
counted  most,  Carol  and  the  little  Julia  who  was 
theirs,  and  would  some  day  be  with  them.  The 
big  thing  now  was  getting  Julia  ready  for  the 
life  that  was  to  come  to  her. 

He  was  richly  satisfied. 

"Carol,  this  is  the  most  wonderful  thing  in  the 
world,  companionship  like  this,  being  together, 
thinking  in  harmony,  hoping  the  same  hopes, 
sharing  the  same  worries,  planning  the  same  fu- 
ture. Companionship  is  life  to  me  now.  There 
is  nothing  like  it  in  all  the  world." 

Carol  snuggled  against  his  shoulder  happily. 


192  SUNNY  SLOPES 

"Love  is  wonderful,"  he  went  on,  "but  com- 
panionship is  broader,  for  it  is  love,  and  more 
beyond.  It  is  the  development  of  love.  It  is  the 
full  blossom  of  the  seed  that  has  been  planted 
in  the  heart.  Service  is  splendid,  too.  But  after 
all,  it  takes  companionship  to  perfect  service. 
One  can  not  work  alone.  You  are  the  completion 
of  my  desire  to  work,  and  you  are  the  inspira- 
tion of  my  ability  to  work.  Yes,  companionship 
is  life, — bigger  than  love  and  bigger  than  service, 
for  companionship  includes  them  both." 


CHAPTER  XVI 
Departed  Spirits 

AS  the  evenings  grew  colder,  the  camp  chairs 
on  the  mesa  were  deserted,  and  the  chat- 
tering "chasers"  gathered  indoors,  sometimes  in 
one  or  another  of  the  airy  tent  cottages,  some- 
times before  the  cheerful  blaze  of  the  logs  in  the 
fireplace  of  the  parlors,  but  oftenest  of  all  they 
flocked  into  Number  Six  of  McCormick  Build- 
ing, where  David  was  confined  to  his  cot.  Always 
there  was  laughter  in  Number  Six,  merry  jest- 
ing, ready  repartee.  So  it  became  the  mecca 
of  those,  who,  even  more  assiduously  than  they 
chased  the  cure,  sought  after  daughter  and  joy. 
In  the  parlors  the  guests  played  cards,  but  in 
Number  Six,  deferring  silently  to  David's  call- 
ing, they  pulled  out  checkers  and  parcheesi,  and 
fought  desperate  battles  over  the  boards.     But 

193 


194  SUNNY  SLOPES 

sometimes  they  fingered  the  dice  and  the  checkers 
idly,  leaning  back  in  their  chairs,  and  talked  of 
temperatures,  and  hypodermics,  and  doctors,  and 
war,  and  ghosts. 

"I  know  this  happened,"  said  the  big  Canadian 
one  night.  "It  was  in  my  own  home  and  I  was 
there.  So  I  can  swear  to  every  word  of  it.  We 
came  out  from  Scotland,  and  took  up  a  big 
homestead  in  Saskatchewan.  We  threw  up  a 
log  house  and  began  living  in  it  before  it  was 
half  done.  Evenings,  the  men  came  in  from  the 
ranches  around,  and  we  sat  by  the  fire  in  the 
kitchen  and  smoked  and  told  stories.  Joined 
on  to  the  kitchen  there  was  a  shed,  which  was 
intended  for  a  summer  kitchen.  But  just  then 
we  had  half  a  dozen  cots  in  it,  and  the  hands 
slept  there.  One  night  one  of  the  boys  said  he 
had  a  headache,  and  to  escape  the  smoke  in  the 
kitchen  which  was  too  thick  to  breathe,  he  went 
into  the  shed  and  lay  down  on  a  cot.  It  was 
still  unfinished,  the  shed  was,  and  there  were 
three  or  four  wide  boards  laid  across  the  rafters 


DEPARTED  SPIRITS  195 

at  the  top  to  keep  them  from  warping  in  the 
damp.  Baldy  lay  on  his  back  and  stared  up  at 
the  roof.  Suddenly  he  leaped  off  the  bed, — we 
all  saw  him;  there  was  no  door  between  the 
rooms.  He  leaped  off  and  dashed  through  the 
kitchen. 

"  'What's  the  matter  7  we  asked  him. 

"  'Let  me  alone,  I  want  to  get  out  of  here/ 
he  said,  and  shot  through  the  door. 

"We  caught  just  one  glimpse  of  his  face.  It 
was  ashen.  We  went  on  smoking.  'He's  a 
crazy  Frenchman/  we  said,  and  let  it  go.  But 
my  brother  was  out  in  the  barn  and  he  cor- 
ralled him  going  by. 

11  'I  am  going  to  die,  Don/  he  said.  T  was 
lying  on  the  bed,  looking  up  at  the  rafters, 
and  I  saw  the  men  come  in  and  take  the  big 
white  board  and  make  it  into  a  coffin  for  me. 
I  am  going  home,  I  want  to  be  with  my  folks/ 

"Don  came  in  scared  stiff,  and  told  us,  and 
we  said  'Pooh,  pooh/  and  went  on  smoking. 
But  about  eleven  o'clock   a   couple   of   fellows 


196  SUNNY  SLOPES 

from  another  ranch  came  over  and  said  their 
boss  had  died  that  afternoon  and  they  could  not 
find  the  right  sized  boards  for  the  coffin.  They 
wanted  a  good  straight  one  about  six  feet  six 
by  fourteen  inches.  We  looked  in  the  barns  and 
the  sheds,  and  could  not  find  what  they  wanted. 
Then  wef  went  into  the  lean-to,  where  there 
were  some  loose  boards  in  the  corner,  but  they 
wouldn't  do. 

"  'Say/  said  one  of  them,  'how  about  that 
white  board  up  there  in  the  rafters?  About 
right,  huh?' 

"We  pulled  it  down,  and  it  was  just  the  size. 
They  were  tickled  to  get  it,  for  they  hated  to 
drive  twelve  miles  to  town  through  snowdrifts 
over  their  heads. 

"  'That's  the  big  white  board  that  Baldy  saw,' 
said  Don  suddenly.  Yes,  by  George!  We  sent 
for  Baldy  that  night  to  make  sure,  and  it  was 
just  what  he  had  seen,  and  the  very  men  that 
came  for  the  board.  Baldy  was  mighty  glad  he 
wasn't  the  corpse." 


DEPARTED  SPIRITS  197 

"Mercy,"  said  Carol,  twitching  her  shoulders. 
"Are  you  sure  it  is  true?" 

"Gospel  truth.  I  was  right  there.  I  took 
down  the  board." 

"I  know  one  that  beats  that,"  said  the  Scotch- 
man promptly.  "They  have  a  sayin'  over  in 
my  country,  that  if  you  have  a  dream,  or  a 
vision,  of  men  comin'  toward  you  carry  in*  a 
coffin,  you  will  be  in  a  coffin  inside  of  three 
days.  One  night  a  neighbor  of  mine,  next 
farm,  was  comin'  home  late,  piped  as  usual,  and 
as  he  came  zigzaggin'  down  a  dark  lane,  he 
looked  up  suddenly  and  saw  four  men  marchin' 
solemnly  toward  him,  carryin'  a  coffin.  Mc- 
Dougall  clutched  his  head.  'God  help  me,'  he 
cried.  Tt  is  the  vision/  Then  he  turned  in  his 
tracks  and  shot  over  a  hedge  and  up  the  bank, 
screamin'  like  mad.  The  spirits  carryin*  the 
coffin  yelled  at  him  and,  droppin'  the  coffin, 
started  up  the  hill  after  him.  But  McDougall 
only  yelled  louder  and  ran  faster,  and  finally 
they  lost  him  in  the  hills.     So  they  went  back. 


198  SUNNY  SLOPES 

They  were  not  spirits  at  all,  and  it  was  a  real 
coffin.  A  woman  had  died,  and  they  were 
takin'  her  in  to  town  ready  for  the  funeral 
next  day.  But  the  next  day  we  found  McDou- 
gall  lyin'  face  down  on  the  grass  ten  miles 
away,  stone  dead." 

The  girls  shivered,  and  Carol  shuffled  her 
chair  closer  to  David's  bed. 

"Ran  himself  to  death?"  suggested  David. 

"Well,  he  died,"  said  the  Scotchman. 

"Is  it  true?"  asked  Carol,  glancing  fearfully 
through  the  screen  of  the  porch  into  the  black 
shadows  on  the  mesa. 

"Absolutely  true,"  declared  the  Scotchman. 
"I  was  in  the  searchin'  party  that  found  him." 

"I — I  don't  believe  in  spirits, — I  mean  haunt- 
ing spirits,"  said  Carol,  stiffening  her  courage 
and  her  backbone  by  a  strong  effort. 

"How  about  the  ghosts  that  drove  the  men 
out  into  the  graveyards  in  the  Bible  and  made 
them  cut  up  all   kinds   of    funny   capers,    and 


DEPARTED  SPIRITS  199 

finally  haunted  the  pigs  and  drove  'em  into  the 
lake  ?"  said  Barrows  slyly. 

'They  were  not  ghosts,"  protested  Carol 
quickly.  "Just  evil  spirits.  They  got  drowned, 
you  know, — ghosts  don't  drown." 

"It  does  not  say  they  got  drowned,"  contra- 
dicted Barrows.  "My  Bible  does  not  say  it. 
The  pigs  got  drowned.  And  that  is  what 
ghosts  are, —  evil  spirits,  very  evil.  They  were 
too  slick  to  get  drowned  themselves;  they  just 
chased  the  pigs  in  and  then  went  off  haunting 
somebody  else." 

Carol  turned  to  David  for  proof,  and  David 
smiled  a  little. 

"Well,"  he  said  thoughtfully,  "perhaps  it  does 
not  particularly  say  the  ghosts  were  drowned. 
It  says  they  went  into  the  pigs,  and  the  pigs 
were  drowned.  It  does  not  say  anything  about 
the  spirits  coming  out  in  advance,  though." 

Carol  and  Barrows  mutually  triumphed  over 
each  other,  claiming  personal  vindication. 

"Do  you  believe  in  ghosts,  Mr.  Duke?"  asked 


200  SUNNY  SLOPES 

Miss  Tucker  in  a  soft  respectful  voice,  as  if 
resolved  not  to  antagonize  any  chance  spirits 
that  might  be  prowling  near. 

"Call  them  psychic  phenomena,  and  I  may 
say  that  I  do,"  said  David. 

"How  do  you  explain  it,  then?"  she  persisted. 

"I  explain  it  by  saying  it  is  a  phenomenon 
which  can  not  be  explained,"  he  evaded  clev- 
erly. 

"But  that  doesn't  get  us  anywhere,  does  it?" 
she  protested  vaguely.  "Does  it — does  it  ex- 
plain anything?" 

"It  does  not  get  us  anywhere,"  he  agreed; 
"but  it  gets  me  out  of  the  difficulty  very  nicely." 

"I  know  a  good  ghost  story  myself,"  said 
Nevius.  "It  is  a  dandy.  It  will  make  your 
blood  run  cold.    Once  there  was  a — " 

"I  do  not  believe  in  telling  ghost  stories,"  said 
Miss  Landbury.  "There  may  not  be  any  such 
thing,  and  I  do  not  believe  there  is,  but  if  there 
should  happen  to  be  any,  it  must  annoy  them  to 
be  talked  about." 


DEPARTED  SPIRITS  201 

"You  shouldn't  say  you  don't  believe  in 
them,"  said  Miss  Tucker.  "At  least  not  on 
such  a  dark  night.  Some  self-respecting  ghost 
may  resent  it  and  try  to  get  even  with  you." 

Miss  Landbury  swallowed  convulsively,  and 
put  her  arm  around  Carol's  waist.  The  sudden 
wail  of  a  pack  of  coyotes  wafted  in  to  them, 
and  the  girls  crouched  close  together. 

"Once  there  was  a  man — " 

"It  is  your  play,  Mr.  Barrows,"  said  Miss 
Landbury.  "Let's  finish  the  game.  I  am  ahead, 
you  remember." 

"Wait  till  I  finish  my  story,"  said  Nevius, 
grinning  wickedly.  "It  is  too  good  to  miss, 
about  curdling  blood,  and  clammy  hands,  and — " 

"Mr.  Duke,  do  you  think  it  is  religious  to 
talk  about  ghosts?  Doesn't  it  say  something  in 
the  Bible  about  avoiding  such  things,  and  fight- 
ing shy  of  spirits  and  soothsayers  and  things 
like  that?" 

"Yes,  it  does,"  agreed  Nevius,  before  David 
could  speak.     "That's  why  I  want  to  tell  this 


202  SUNNY  SLOPES 

story.  I  think  it  is  my  Christian  duty.  You 
will  sure  fight  shy  of  ghosts  after  you  hear  this. 
You  won't  even  have  nerve  enough  to  dream 
about  'em.    Once  there  was  a  man—" 

Carol  deliberately  removed  Miss  Landbury's 
arm  from  her  waist,  and  climbed  up  on  the  bed 
beside  David.  Miss  Landbury  shuffled  as  close 
to  the  bed  as  propriety  would  at  all  admit,  and 
clutched  the  blanket  with  desperate  fingers. 
Miss  Tucker  got  a  firm  grip  on  one  of  Carol's 
hands,  and  after  a  hesitating  pause,  ensconced 
her  elbow  snugly  against  David's  Bible  lying  on 
the  table.  Gooding  said  he  felt  a  draft,  and  sat 
on  the  foot  of  the  cot. 

"Once  there  was  a  man,  and  he  was  in  love 
with  two  women — oh,  yes,  Mrs.  Duke,  it  can  be 
done  all  right.  I  have  done  it  myself — yes,  two 
at  the  same  time.  Ask  any  man;  they  can  all 
do  it.  Oh,  women  can't.  They  aren't  broad- 
minded  enough.  It  takes  a  man, — his  heart  can 
hold  them,  all."  The  girls  sniffed,  but  Nevius 
would  not  be  side-tracked  from  his  story.  "Well, 


DEPARTED  SPIRITS  203 

this  man  loved  them  both,  and  they  were  both 
worth  loving — young,  and  fair,  and  wealthy. 
He  loved  them  distractedly.  He  loved  one  be- 
cause she  was  soft  and  sweet  and  adorable,  and 
he  called  her  Precious.  He  loved  the  other  be- 
cause she  was  talented  and  brilliant,  a  queen 
among  women,  the  center  of  every  throng,  and 
he  called  her  Glory.  He- loved  to  kiss  the  one, 
and  he  loved  to  be  proud  of  the  other.  They 
did  not  know  about  each  other,  they  lived  in 
different  towns.  One  night  the  queenly  one 
was  giving  a  toast  at  a  banquet,  and  the  revel- 
ers were  leaning  toward  her,  drinking  in  every 
word  of  her  rich  musical  voice,  marveling  at  her 
brilliancy,  when  suddenly  she  saw  a  tiny  figure 
perch  on  the  table  in  front  of  her  fiance, — yes, 
he  was  fianceing  them  both.  The  little  figure 
on  the  table  had  a  sweet,  round,  dimply  face, 
and  wooing  lips,  and  loving  eyes.  The  fiance 
took  her  in  his  arms,  and  stroked  the  round  pink 
cheek,  and  kissed  the  curls  on  her  forehead. 
Glory  faltered,  and  tried  to  brush  the  mist  from 


204  SUNNY  SLOPES 

before  her  eyes.  She  was  dreaming, — there  was 
no  tiny  figure  on  the  table.  There  could  not  be. 
Lover — they  both  called  him  Lover;  he  had  a 
fancy  for  the  name — Lover  was  gazing  up  at 
her  with  eyes  full  of  pride  and  admiration.  She 
finished  hurriedly  and  sat  down,  wiping  the 
moisture  from  her  white  brow.  'Such  a  strange 
thing,  Lover/  she  whispered.  'I  saw  a  tiny 
figure  come  tripping  up  to  you,  and  she  caressed 
and  kissed  you,  and  ran  her  fingers  over  your 
lips  so  childishly  and — so  adoringly,  and — ' 
Lover  looked  startled.  'What!'  he  ejaculated. 
For  little  Precious  had  tricks  like  that.  'Yes, 
and  she  had  one  tiny  curl  over  her  left  ear,  and 
you  kissed  it.'  'You  saw  that?'  'Yes,  just 
now.'  She  looked  at  him;  he  was  pale  and  dis- 
turbed. 'Have  you  ever  been  married,  Lover?' 
she  asked.  'Never/  he  denied  quickly.  But  he 
was  strangely  silent  the  rest  of  the  evening. 
The  next  morning  Glory  was  ill.  When  he 
called,  they  took  him  up  to  her  room,  and  he  sat 
beside  her  and  held  her  hand.    'Another  strange 


DEPARTED  SPIRITS  205 

thing  happened/  she  said.  'The  little  beauty 
who  kissed  you  at  the  banquet  came  up  to  my 
bed,  and  put  her  arms  around  me  and  caressed 
and  fondled  me  and  said  she  loved  me  because,  I 
was  so  beautiful,  and  her  little  white  arms 
seemed  to  choke  me,  and  I  struggled  for  breath 
and  floundered  out  of  bed,  and  she  kissed  me 
and  said  I  was  a  darling  and  tripped  away,  and 
—I  fainted/  " 

"Mr.  Nevius,  that  isn't  nice,"  protested  Miss 
Landbury. 

"Lover  said  urgent  business  called  him  out  of 
town.  He  would  go  to  Precious.  Glory  was 
getting  freakish,  queer.  Precious  never  had 
visions.  She  was  not  notionate.  She  just  loved 
him  and  was  content.  So  he  went  to  her.  She 
dimpled  at  him  adoringly,  and  led  him  out  to 
her  bower  of  roses,  and  sat  on  his  knee  and 
stroked  his  eyes  with  her  pink  finger  tips,  and 
he  kissed  the  little  curl  over  her  left  ear  and 
thought  she  was  worth  a  dozen  tempestuous 
Glories.     But  suddenly  she  caught  her  breath 


206  SUNNY  SLOPES 

and  leaned  forward.  He  spoke  to  her,  but  she 
did  not  hear.  Her  face  was  colorless  and  her 
white  lips  were  parted  fearfully.  For  she  saw 
a  lovely,  radiant,  queenly  woman,  magnificently 
gowned,  the  center  of  a  throng  of  people,  and 
Lover  was  beside  her,  his  face  flushed  with 
pride,  his  eyes  shining  with  admiration.  Her 
fine  voice,  like  music,  held  every  one  spellbound. 
Precious  clasped  her  tiny  hands  over  her  rose- 
bud ears  and  shivered.  She  shut  her  eyes  hard 
and  opened  them  and — what  nonsense!  There 
was  no  queenly  lady,  there  was  no  loud,  clear, 
ringing  voice.  But  her  ears  were  tingling.  She 
turned  to  Lover,  trembling. 

"  'How — how — how  funny/  she  said.  'I  saw 
a  radiant  woman  talking,  and  she  fascinated  all 
the  world,  and  you  were  with  her,  adoring 
her.  Her  voice  was  like  music,  but  so  loud, 
too  loud;  it  crashed  in  my  ears,  it  deafened  me/ 

"Lover's  brows  puckered  thoughtfully.  'How 
did  she  look?'  he  asked. 

"  'Tall  and  white,  with  crimson  lips,  and  black 


DEPARTED  SPIRITS  207 

hair  massed  high  on  her  head.     And  her  voice 
was  just  like  music/ 

'The  next  morning  Precious  was  ill.  When 
Lover  went  to  her  she  clung  to  him  and  cried. 
The  lovely  lady,'  she  said,  'she  came  when  I 
was  alone,  and  she  said  I  was  a  beautiful  little 
doll  and  she  would  give  me  music,  music,  a 
world  full  of  music.  And  her  voice  was  like  a 
bell,  and  it  grew  louder  and  louder,  and  I 
thought  the  world  was  crashing  into  the  stars, 
and  I  screamed  and  fell  on  the  floor,  and  when 
I  awoke  the  music  was  gone,  and — I  was  so 
weak  and  sick/ 

"Lover  decided  to  go  back  to  Glory  until 
Precious  got  over  this  silly  whim.  But  he  had 
no  peace.  Glory  was  constantly  tormented  by 
the  loving  Precious.  And  when  he  returned  to 
Precious,  the  splendor  of  Glory's  voice  was  with 
her  day  and  night.  He  lost  his  appetite.  He 
could  not  sleep.  So  he  went  off  into  the  woods 
alone,  to  fish  and  hunt  a  while.  But  one  night 
as  he  sat  in  his  tent,  he  heard  a  faint,  far-off 


208  SUNNY  SLOPES 

whisper  of  music, — Glory's  voice.  It  came 
nearer  and  nearer,  grew  louder  and  louder,  un- 
til it  crashed  in  his  ears  like  the  clamor  of 
worlds  banging  into  stars,  as  Precious  had  said. 
And  then  he  felt  a  tender  caressing  finger  on 
his  eyes,  and  soft  warm  arms  encircled  his  neck, 
and  soft  red  lips  pressed  upon  his.  Closer  drew 
the  encircling  arms,  more  breathlessly  the  red 
lips  pressed  his.  He  struggled  for  breath,  and 
fought  to  tear  away  the  dimpled  arms.  The 
music  of  Glory's  voice  rose  into  unspeakable 
tumult,  the  warm  pressure  of  Precious'  arms 
rendered  him  powerless.  He  fell  insensible,  and 
two  days  later  they  found  him, — dead." 

There  was  a  brief  eloquent  silence  when 
Nevius  finished  his  story.    The  girls  shivered. 

"A  true  story?"  queried  David,  smiling. 

"A  true  story,"  said  Nevius  decidedly. 

"Um-hum.  Lover  was  alone  in  the  woods, 
wasn't  he?  How  did  his  friends  find  out  about 
those  midnight  spirits  that  came  and  killed 
him?" 


DEPARTED  SPIRITS  209 

The  girls  brightened.  "Yes,  of  course," 
chirped  Carol.     "How  did  folks  find  out?* 

"Say,  be  reasonable,"  begged  Nevius.  "Spoil- 
ing another  good  story.  I  say  it  is  a  true  tale, 
and  I  ought  to  know.  I,"  he  shouted  triumph- 
antly, "I  was  Lover." 

Hooting  laughter  greeted  him. 

"But  just  the  same,"  contended  Barrows,  "re- 
gardless of  the  feeble  fabrications  of  senile 
minds,  there  are  ghosts  none  the  less.  The 
night  before  we  got  word  of  my  father's  death, 
my  sister  woke  up  in  the  night  and  saw  a  white 
shadow  in  her  window, — and  a  voice, — father's 
voice, — said,  'Stay  with  me,  Flossie;  I  don't 
want  to  be  alone.'  She  told  about  it  at  break- 
fast, and  said  it  was  just  five  minutes  to  two 
o'clock.  And  an  hour  later  we  got  a  message 
that  father  had  died  at  two  that  night,  a  thou- 
sand miles  away." 

"Honestly?" 

"Yes,  honestly." 

"I   knew   a  woman  in  Chicago,"   said  Miss 


210  SUNNY  SLOPES 

Landbury,  "and  she  said  the  night  before  her 
mother  died  she  lay  down  on  the  cot  to  rest,  and 
a  white  shadow  came  and  hovered  over  the  bed, 
and  she  saw  in  it,  like  a  dream,  all  the  details  of 
her  mother's  death  just  as  it  happened  the  very 
next  day.     She  swore  it  was  true." 

"Don't  talk  any  more  about  white  shadows," 
said  Carol.     "They  make  me  nervous." 

"Wouldn't  it  be  ghastly  to  wake  up  alone  in 
a  little  wind-blown  canvas  tent  in  the  dead  of 
night,  and  find  it  shut  off  from  the  world  by  a 
white  shadow,  and  hear  a  low  voice  whisper, 
'Come,'  and  feel  yourself  drawn  slowly  into  the 
shadow  by  invisible  clammy  fingers — " 

"Don't,"  cried  Miss  Landbury. 

"That's  not  nice,"  said  Carol. 

"Don't  scare  the  girls,  Barrows.  Carol  will 
sleep  under  the  bed  to-night." 

"I  am  with  the  girls  myself,"  said  Gooding. 
"There  isn't  any  sense  getting  yourself  all 
worked  up  talking  about  spirits  and  ghosts  and 
things  that  never  happened  in  the  world." 


DEPARTED  SPIRITS  211 

"Oh,  they  didn't,  didn't  they?  Just  the  same, 
when  you  reach  out  for  a  cough-drop  and  get 
hold  of  a  bunch  of  clinging  fingers  that  aren't 
yours,  and  are  not  connected  with  anybody  that 
belongs  there, — well,  I  for  one  don't  take  any 
chances  with  ghosts." 

A  sudden  brisk  tap  on  the  door  drew  a 
startled  movement  from  the  men  and  a  fright- 
ened cry  from  the  girls.  The  door  opened  and 
the  head  nurse  stood  before  them. 

"Ten-fifteen,"  she  said  curtly.  "Please  go  to 
your  cottages  at  once.  Mr.  Duke,  why  don't 
you  send  your  company  home  at  ten  o'clock?" 

"Bad  manners.  Ministers  need  hospitality 
more  than  religion  nowadays,  they  tell  us." 

"Oh,  Miss  David,"  cried  Miss  Tucker,  "won't 
you  go  out  to  my  tent  with  me?  I  feel  so  nerv- 
ous to-night." 

"What  is  the  matter?"  asked  the  nurse  sus- 
piciously, looking  from  one  to  another  of  the 
flushed  faces  and  noting  the  restless  hands  and 
the  fearful  eyes. 


212  SUNNY  SLOPES 

"Nothing,  nothing  at  all,  but  my  head  aches 
and  I  feel  lonesome.' ' 

The  nurse  contracted  her  lips  curiously.  "Of 
course  I  will  go,"  she  said. 

"Let  me  come  too,"  said  Miss  Landbury, 
rising  with  alacrity.  "I  have  a  headache  my- 
self." 

Huddled  together  in  an  anxious  group  they 
set  forth,  and  the  nurse,  like  a  good  shepherd, 
led  her  little  flock  to  shelter.  But  as  she  walked 
back  to  her  room,  her  brows  were  knitted  curi- 
ously. 

"What  in  the  world  were  the  silly  things 
talking  about?"  she  wondered. 

"David  Duke,"  Carol  was  informing  her  hus- 
band, as  she  stood  over  him,  in  negligee  ready 
to  "hop  in,"  "I  shall  let  the  light  burn  all  night, 
or  I  shall  sleep  in  the  cot  with  you.  I  won't 
run  any  risk  of  white  shadows  sitting  on  me  in 
the  dark." 

"Why,  Carol—" 


DEPARTED  SPIRITS  213 

"Take  your  pick,  my  boy,"  she  interrupted 
briskly.     "The  light  burns,  or  I  sleep  with  you." 

"This  cot  is  hardly  big  enough  for  one,"  he 
argued.  "And  neither  of  us  can  sleep  with  that 
bright  light  burning." 

"David,"  she  wailed,  "I  have  looked  under 
the  bed  three  times  already,  but  I  know  some- 
thing will  get  me  between  the  electric  switch 
and  the  bed." 

David  laughed  at  her,  but  said  obligingly, 
"Well,  jump  in  and  cover  up  your  head  with  a 
pillow,  and  get  yourself  settled,  and  I  will  turn 
off  the  lights  myself." 

"It  is  a  sin  and  a  shame  and  I  am  a  selfish 
little  coward,"  Carol  condemned  herself,  but 
just  the  same  she  was  glad  to  avail  herself  of 
the  privilege. 

A  little  later  the  white  colony  on  the  mesa 
was  in  darkness.  But  Carol  could  not  sleep. 
The  blankets  over  her  head  lent  a  semblance  of 
protection,  but  most  distracting  visions  came  to 
her  wide  and  burning  eyes. 


214  (      SUNNY  SLOPES 

"Are  you  asleep,  David?"  she  would  call  at 
frequent  intervals,  and  David's  "Yes,  sound 
asleep,"  gave  her  momentary  comfort. 

But  finally  he  was  awakened  from  a  light 
sleep  by  a  soft  pressure  against  his  foot.  Even 
David  started  nervously,  and  "Ghosts"  flashed 
into  his  logical  and  well-ordered  brain.  But  no, 
it  was  only  the  soft  and  shivering  form  of  his 
wife,  curling  herself  noiselessly  into  a  ball  on 
the  foot  of  his  cot.  David  watched  her,  shaking 
with  silent  laughter.  Surreptitiously  she  slipped 
an  arm  beneath  his  feet,  and  circled  them  in  a 
deadly  grip.  If  the  ghosts  got  her,  they  would 
get  David's  feet,  and  in  her  girlish  mind  ran  a 
half  acknowledged  belief  that  the  Lord  wouldn't 
let  the  ghosts  get  as  good  a  man  as  David. 

Wretchedly  uncomfortable  as  to  position,  but 
blissfully  assured  in  her  mind,  she  fell  into  a 
doze,  from  which  she  was  brought  violently  by 
a  low  whisper  in  the  room: 

"Mrs.  Duke." 


DEPARTED  SPIRITS  215 

"00000000,''  moaned  Carol,  diving  deep  be- 
neath the  covers. 

David  sat  up  quickly. 

"Who  is  there?" 

"It  is  I,  Miss  Landbury,"  came  a  frightened 
whisper.  "Can't  I  stay  with  you  a  while?  I 
can't  go  to  sleep  to  save  me, — and  honestly,  I 
am  scared  to  death." 

This  brought  Carol  forth,  and  with  warm  and 
sympathetic  hospitality  she  turned  back  the  cov- 
ers at  the  foot  of  the  bed  and  said : 

"Yes,  come  right  in." 

David  nudged  her  remindingly  with  his  foot. 
"Since  there  are  two  of  you  to  protect  each 
other,"  he  said,  laughing,  "suppose  you  go  in  to 
Carol's  bed,  and  leave  me  my  cot  in  peace." 

This  Carol  flatly  refused  to  do.  If  Miss 
Landbury  was  willing  to  share  the  foot  of 
David's  cot,  she  was  more  than  welcome.  But 
if  she  meant  to  stand  on  ceremony  and  go  into 
that  awful  big  black  room  without  a  minister, 
she  could  go  by  herself,  that  was  all.    Carol  lay 


216  SUNNY  SLOPES 

down  decidedly,  and  considered  the  subject 
closed. 

"I  don't  want  to  sleep,"  said  Miss  Landbury 
unhappily.  "I  am  not  sleepy.  I  just  want  a 
place  to  sit,  where  I — I  won't  keep  seeing 
things." 

"Turn  on  the  light,  Carol,"  said  David.  "You 
ought  to  be  ashamed  of  yourselves,  both  of 
you." 

"That's  all  right,"  defended  Carol.  "You  are 
a  preacher,  and  ghosts  don't  bother — " 

"Don't  say  ghosts,"  chattered  Miss  Landbury. 

"Well,  what  is  the  plan  of  procedure?"  in- 
quired David  patiently.  "Are  you  going  to  turn 
my  cot  into  a  boarding-house?  You  girls  stay 
here,  and  I  will  go  in  to  Carol's  bed.  Give  me 
my  bath  robe,  honey,  and — " 

"Oh,  please,"  gasped  Miss  Landbury. 

"And  leave  us  on  this  porch  with  nothing  but 
screen  around  us?"  exclaimed  Carol.  "I  am 
surprised  at  you,  David." 

David  turned  his   face  to  the  wall.     "Well, 


DEPARTED  SPIRITS  217 

make  yourselves  comfortable.  Good  night, 
girls." 

The  girls  stared  at  each  other  in  the  dark- 
ness, helplessly,  resignedly.  Wasn't  that  just 
like  a  man? 

"I  tell  you  what,"  said  Carol  hopefully,  "let's 
bring  the  mattress  and  the  blankets  from  my 
bed  and  put  them  on  the  floor  here  beside  David, 
and  we  can  all  sleep  nicely  right  together." 

"Oh,  that's  lovely,"  cried  Miss  Landbury. 
"You  are  the  dearest  thing,  Mrs.  Duke." 

Hurriedly,  and  with  bated  breath,  they  raided 
Carol's  bed,  tugging  the  heavy  mattress  between 
them,  quietly  ignoring  the  shaking  of  David's 
cot  which  spoke  so  loudly  of  amusement. 

"I'll  crawl  right  in  then,"  said  Miss  Land- 
bury  comfortably. 

"I  sleep  next  to  David,  if  you  please,"  said 
Carol  with  quiet  dignity. 

Miss  Landbury  obediently  rolled  over,  and 
Carol  scrambled  in  beside  her. 

"Turn  off  the  light,"  suggested  David. 


218  SUNNY  SLOPES 

"Oh,  yes,  Miss  Landbury,  turn  it  off,  will 
you?"  said  Carol  pleasantly. 

"Who,  me?"  came  the  startled  voice.  "In- 
deed I  won't." 

"David,  dearest,"  pleaded  Carol  weakly. 

"Go  on  parade  in  my  pajamas,  dear?"  he 
questioned  promptly. 

"Let's  both  go  then,"  compromised  Carol, 
and  she  and  Miss  Landbury,  hand  in  hand, 
marched  like  Trojans  to  the  switch  in  the  other 
room,  Carol  clicked  the  button,  and  then  came 
a  wild  and  inglorious  rush  back  to  the  mattress 
on  the  floor. 

"Good  night,  girls." 

"Good  night,  David." 

"Good  night,  Mr.  Duke." 

"Good  night,  Miss  Landbury." 

"Good  night,  Mrs.  Duke." 

Then  sweet  and  blessed  silence,  which  lasted 
for  at  least  five  minutes  before  there  sounded  a 
distinct,  persistent  rapping  on  their  door. 

Carol  and  Miss  Landbury  rushed  to  the  pro- 


DEPARTED  SPIRITS  219 

tection  of  each  other's  arms,  and  before  David 
had  time  to  call,  the  door  opened,  the  switch 
clicked  once  more,  and  Gooding,  his  hair  stick- 
ing out  in  every  possible  direction,  his  bath  robe 
flapping  ungracefully  about  his  knees,  con- 
fronted them. 

"This  is  a  shame,"  he  began  ingratiatingly. 
"I  know  it.  But  I've  got  to  have  some  one  to 
talk  to.  I  can't  go  to  sleep  and —  Heavens, 
what's  that  on  the  floor?" 

"It  is  I  and  my  friend,  Miss  Landbury,"  said 
Carol  quietly.   "We  are  having  a  slumber  party." 

"Yes,  all  party  and  no  slumber,"  muttered 
David. 

"Well,  I  am  glad  I  happened  in.  I  was  lone- 
some off  there  by  myself.  You  know  you  do 
get  sick  of  being  alone  all  the  time.  Shove 
over,  old  man,  and  I'll  join  the  party." 

David  looked  at  him  in  astonishment. 

"Nothing  doing,"  he  said.  "This  cot  isn't 
big  enough  for  two.  Go  in  and  use  Carol's  bed 
if  you  like." 


220  SUNNY  SLOPES 

"It's  too  far  off,"  objected  Gooding.  "Be 
sociable,  Duke." 

"There  isn't  any  mattress  there  anyhow," 
said  Carol. 

They  looked  at  one  another  in  a  quandary. 

"Go  on  back  to  bed,  Gooding,"  said  David, 
at  last.    "This  is  no  time  for  conversation." 

Gooding  would  not  hear  of  it.  "Here  I  am 
and  here  I  stay,"  he  said  with  finality.  "I've 
been  seeing  white  shadows  and  feeling  clammy 
fingers  all  night." 

"Well,  what  are  you  going  to  do?  We've  got 
a  full  house,  you  can  see  that." 

"Go  and  get  your  own  mattress  and  blankets 
and  use  them  on  my  bed,"  urged  Carol. 

Miss  Landbury  turned  on  her  side  and  closed 
her  eyes.  She  was  taken  care  of,  she  should 
worry  over  Mr.  Gooding! 

"I  don't  want  to  stay  in  there  by  myself," 
said  Gooding  again.  "Isn't  there  room  out 
here?" 

"Do  you  see  any?" 


DEPARTED  SPIRITS  221 

"Well,  I'll  move  in  the  room  with  you,"  vol- 
unteered David. 

Miss  Landbury  sat  up  abruptly. 

"We  won't  stay  here  without  you,  David," 
said  Carol. 

"I  tell  you  what,"  said  Gooding  brightly, 
"we'll  get  my  mattress  and  put  it  in  the  room 
for  me,  and  we'll  move  David's  mattress  on 
Carol's  bed  for  David,  and  then  we'll  move  the 
girls'  mattress  in  on  the  floor  for  them." 

No  one  offered  objections  to  this  arrange- 
ment. "Hurry  up,  then,  and  get  your  mat- 
tress," begged  Carol.     "I  am  so  sleepy." 

"I  can't  carry  them  alone  through  those  long 
dark  halls,"  Gooding  insisted.  Miss  Landbury 
would  not  accompany  him  without  a  third  party, 
Carol  flatly  refused  to  leave  dear  sick  David 
alone  in  that  porch,  and  at  last  in  despair  David 
donned  his  bath  robe  and  the  four  of  them 
crossed  the  wide  parlor,  traversed  the  dark  hall 
to  Gooding's  room  and  returned  with  mattress, 
pillows  and  blankets.     After  a  great   deal   of 


222  SUNNY  SLOPES 

panting  and  pulling,  the  little  party  was  settled 
for  sleep. 

It  must  have  been  an  hour  later  when  they 
were  startled  into  sitting  posture,  their  hearts 
in  their  throats,  by  piercing  screams  wThich  rang 
out  over  the  mesa,  one  after  another  in  quick 
succession. 

"David,  David,  David,"  gasped  Carol. 

"I'm  right  here,  Carol;  we're  all  right,"  he 
assured  her  quickly. 

Miss  Landbury  swayed  dizzily  and  fell  back, 
half -conscious,  upon  the  pillows.  Gooding, 
with  one  bound,  landed  on  David's  bed,  nearly 
crushing  the  breath  out  of  that  feeble  hero  of 
the  darkness. 

Lights  flashed  quickly  from  tent  to  tent  on 
the  mesa,  frightened  voices  called  for  nurses, 
doors  slammed,  bells  rang,  and  nurses  and  por- 
ters rushed  to  the  rescue. 

"Who  was  it?"  "Where  was  it?"  "What 
is  it?" 

"Over  here,  I  think,"  shouted  a  man.     "Miss 


DEPARTED  SPIRITS  223 

Tucker.  I  called  to  her  and  she  did  not  an- 
swer." 

A  low  indistinct  sound,  half  groan,  half  sob- 
bing, came  from  the  open  windows  of  the  little 
tent.  And  as  they  drew  near,  their  feet  rattling 
the  dry  sand,  there  came  a  warning  call. 

"A  light,  a  light,  a  light,"  begged  Miss 
Tucker.  The  nurses  hesitated,  half  frightened, 
and  as  they  paused  they  heard  a  low  drip,  drip, 
inside  the  tent,  each  drop  emphasized  by  Miss 
Tucker's  sobs. 

The  porter  flashed  a  pocket-light,  and  they 
opened  the  door.  Miss  Tucker  lay  in  a  huddled 
heap  on  her  bed,  her  hands  over  her  face,  her 
shoulders  rising  and  falling.  The  nurses  shook 
her  sternly. 

"What  is  the  matter  with  you?"  they  de- 
manded. 

Finally,  she  was  persuaded  to  lift  her  face 
and  mumble  an  explanation.  "I  was  asleep,  and 
I  heard  my  name  called,  and  I  looked  up.  There 
was  a  white  shadow  on  the  door.     I  seized  my 


224  SUNNY  SLOPES 

pillow  and  threw  it  with  all  my  might,  and  there 
was  a  loud  crash  and  a  roar,  and  then  began 
that  drip,  drip,  drip, — oh-h-h!" 

"You  silly  thing,"  said  Miss  Allen.  "Of 
course  there  was  a  crash.  You  knocked  the 
chimney  off  your  lamp, — that  made  a  crash  all 
right.  And  the  lamp  upset,  and  it  is  the  kero- 
sene drip,  dripping  from  the  table  to  the  floor. 
Girls  who  must  have  kerosene  lamps  to  heat 
their  curlers  must  look  for  trouble." 

"The  white  shadow — "  protested  the  girl. 

"Moonshine,  of  course.  Look."  Miss  Allen 
pulled  the  girl  to  her  feet.  "The  whole  mesa  is 
in  white  shadow.  Run  around  to  the  tents, 
girls,"  she  said  to  her  assistants,  "and  tell  them 
Miss  Tucker  had  a  bad  dream, — nothing  wrong. 
We  will  have  a  dozen  bed  patients  from  this 
night's  foolishness." 

Miss  Tucker  refused  to  -be  left  alone  and  a 
nurse  was  detailed  to  spend  the  night  with  her. 

When  the  nurses  on  their  rounds  reached 
Miss  Landbury's  room  in  the  McCormick  Build- 


DEPARTED  SPIRITS  225 

ing,  they  had  another  fright.  The  room  was 
empty.  The  bed  was  cold, — had  not  been  occu- 
pied for  hours,  likely.  They  rushed  to  the  head 
nurse,  and  a  wild  search  was  instituted. 

The  Dukes'  room,  Number  Six,  McCormick, 
was  wrapped  in  darkness. 

"Don't  go  near  them,"  Miss  Allen  said.  "Per- 
haps they  did  not  hear  the  noise,  and  Mr.  Duke 
should  not  be  disturbed." 

So  the  wild  search  went  on. 

But  after  a  time,  a  Mexican  porter,  with  a 
lantern,  seeking  every  nook  and  corner,  plodded 
stealthily  around  a  corner  of  the  McCormick. 

He  heard  a  gasp  beside  him,  and  turning  his 
lantern  he  looked  directly  into  the  window, 
where  four  white,  tense  faces  peered  at  him 
with  staring  eyes.  He  returned  their  stare, 
speechlessly.     Then  he  saw  Miss  Landbury. 

"Ain't  you  lost?"  he  ejaculated. 

Miss  Landbury,  frightened  out  of  her  senses, 
and  not  recognizing  the  porter  in  the  darkness, 
shot  into  her  bed  on  the  floor,  and  David  an- 


226  SUNNY  SLOPES 

swered  the  man's  questions.  A  moment  later 
an  outraged  matron,  flanked  by  two  nurses, 
marched  in  upon  them. 

"What  is  the  meaning  of  this?"  they  de- 
manded. 

"Search  me,"  said  David  pleasantly.  "Our 
friends  and  neighbors  got  lonesome  in  the  night 
and  refused  to  sleep  alone  and  let  us  rest  in 
contentment.  So  they  moved  in,  and  here  we  are." 

Both  Gooding  and  Miss  Landbury  positively 
declined  to  go  home  alone,  and  other  nurses 
wrere  appointed  to  guard  them  during  the  brief 
remaining  hours  of  the  night.  At  four  o'clock 
came  sleep  and  silence  and  serenity,  with  Carol 
on  the  floor,  clutching  David's  hand,  which  even 
in  sleep  she  did  not  resign. 

The  next  morning  a  huge  notice  was  posted 
on  the  bulletin  board. 

"Any  one  who  tells  a  ghost  story,  or  dis- 
cusses departed  spirits,  in  this  institution  or  on 
the  grounds  thereof,  shall  have  all  privileges 
suspended  for  a  period  of  six  weeks. 

"By  order  of  the  Superintendent." 


CHAPTER  XVII 

1 
Rubbing  Elbows 

"Chicago,  Illinois. 
4  4  "TXEARLY  Beloveds : 

-*— *  "Nearly  I  am  converted  to  matrimony 
as  a  life  career.  Almost  I  feel  it  is  worth  the 
sacrifice  of  independence,  the  death  of  original- 
ity, the  banishment  of  special  friendship,  and  the 
monotonous  bondage  of  rigid  routine. 

"I  have  just  come  back  from  Mount  Mark, 
where  I  had  my  second  visit  with  little  Julia. 
She  is  worth  the  giving  up  of  anything,  and  the 
enduring  of  everything.     She  is  marvelous. 

"When  I  first  saw  her,  just  after  Aunt  Grace 
brought  her  home, — I  think  I  told  you  that  I 
went  without  a  new  pair  of  lovely  gray  shoes  at 
ten  dollars  a  pair  in  order  to  go  to  Mount  Mark 
to  meet  her, — she  was  very  sweet,  and  all  that, 

227 


228  SUNNY  SLOPES 

but  when  they  are  so  rosily  new  they  are  more 
like  scientific  curiosities  than  literary  inspira- 
tions. But  I  have  met  her  again,  and  I  am 
everlastingly  converted  to  the  domestic  enslave- 
ment of  women.  One  little  Julia  is  worth  it.  So 
as  soon  as  I  find  the  husband,  I  am  going  to  cul- 
tivate my  eleven  children.  You  remember  that 
was  the  career  I  picked  out  in  the  days  of  my 
tender  youth. 

"Her  face  is  big  and  round  and  white,  and  her 
eyes  are  bluer  than  any  summer  sky  the  poets 
could  rave  about.  Her  lips  are  the  original 
Cupid's  bow, — in  fact,  Julia's  lips  have  about 
convinced  me  that  Cupid  must  have  been  a  wom- 
an, certainly  he  could  ask  no  more  deadly  weapon 
for  shattering  the  hearts  of  men.  Her  hair  is 
comical.  It  is  yellow  gold,  but  it  sticks  straight 
out  in  every  direction.  It  is  the  most  aggra- 
vatingly,  irresistibly  defiant  hair  you  ever  saw 
in  your  life.  It  makes  you  kiss  it,  and  brush  it, 
and  soak  it  in  water,  and  shake  Julia  for  having 
it,  and  then  fall  in  love  with  her  all  over  again. 


RUBBING  ELBOWS  229 

"She  is  just  beginning  to  talk.  When  I  arrived 
the  whole  family  was  assembled  to  do  me  honor, 
Prudence  and  Fairy,  Lark  and  all  the  babies. 
Julia  seemed  to  resent  her  temporary  eclipse  in 
the  limelight.  She  crowed  in  a  compelling  way, 
and  when  I  advanced  to  bow  reverently  before 
her,  she  pointed  a  fat,  accusing  finger  at  me, 
and  said,  'Who  is  'at?'  Her  very  first  word, — 
and  no  presidential  message  ever  provoked  half 
the  storm  of  approval  her  little  phrase  called 
forth.  We  laughed,  and  kissed  each  other,  and 
begged  her  to  say  it  again,  and  Prudence  said, 
'Oh,  if  Carol  could  have  heard  that/  and  then 
we  all  rushed  off  and  cried  and  scolded  each 
other  for  being  so  silly,  and  Julia  screamed. 
Oh,  it  was  a  formal  afternoon  reception  all 
right. 

"And  I  am  putting  a  little  three-line  ad  in  the 
morning  Tribune.  'Young,  accomplished,  attrac- 
tive lady  without  means,  of  strong  domestic  tend- 
encies, desires  a  husband,  eugenic,  rich,  good 
looking.     Object  matrimony/ 


230  SUNNY  SLOPES 

"Of  course  I  know  that  I  repeat  myself.  But 
if  you  don't  say  'Object  matrimony,'  some  men 
wouldn't  catch  the  point. 

"And  so  you  are  out  of  the  San  and  keeping 
house  again.  A  brand-new  honeymoon,  of 
course,  and  cooing  doves,  and  chiming  bells, 
and  all  the  rest  of  it.  When  the  rest  of  us  back 
here  write  to  each  other,  we  say  at  the  end, 
'Carol  is  well  and  David  is  better.'  It  conveys 
the  idea  of  a  Thanksgiving  service  and  a  halle- 
lujah chorus.  It  means  Good  night,  God  bless 
you,  and  Merry  Christmas,  all  in  one. 

"By  the  way,  do  you  remember  William  Can- 
field  Brewer,  the  original  advertiser  who  got 
moved  out  when  I  moved  in?  Well,  between 
you  and  me,  almost  for  a  while  I  did  begin  to 
see  some  charms  in  matrimony.  He  came  again, 
and  was  properly  introduced.  And  took  me  for 
a  drive, — it  seems  he  had  just  collected  his  sal- 
ary,— and  he  came  again,  and  we  went  to  the 
park,  and  he  came  again.  And  that  was  when 
I   began  to  see  the  halo  around  the  wedding 


RUBBING  ELBOWS  231 

bells.  One  night  he  was  telling  me  his  experi- 
ences in  saving  money, — uproariously  funny,  my 
dear,  for  he  never  could  save  more  than  five 
dollars  a  month,  and  ran  in  debt  fifteen  dollars 
to  encompass  it.    He  said: 

"  'My  wife  used  to  say  it  was  harder  work  for 
me  to  carry  my  salary  home  from  the  office  than 
to  earn  it  right  at  the  start/ 

"I  laughed, — I  thought  of  course  it  was  a 
joke.  I  guess  the  laugh  was  revealing,  for  he 
turned  around  suddenly  and  said: 

"  'You  knew  I  was  married,  didn't  you,  Con- 
nie?'    First  time  he  ever  called  me  Connie. 

"Well,  the  halo  vanished  like  a  flash  and 
hasn't  got  back  yet. 

"I  said,  'No,  I  didn't  know  it/ 

"  'Why,  everybody  knows  it,'  he  expostu- 
lated. 

"  'I  did  not/ 

"  'We  are  devoted  to  each  other/  he  said, 
laughing  lightly,  'but  we  find  our  devotion  wears 
better  at  long  distance.     So  she  lives  wherever 


232  SUNNY  SLOPES 

I  do  not,  and  we  get  along  like  birdies  in  their 
little  nest.     I  haven't  seen  her  for  two  years.' 

"Then  he  went  on  with  his  financial  experi- 
ences, evidently  calling  the  subject  closed. 

"When  he  started  home,  he  said,  'Well,  what 
shall  we  do  Sunday?' 

"  'Nothing,  together.     You  are  married/ 

"  'Well,  I  don't  get  any  fun  out  of  it,  do  I  ?' 

"  'No,  maybe  not.  But  I  have  a  hunch  I 
won't  get  much  fun  out  of  it,  either.' 

"  'I  forgot  about  the  parsonage.'  He  consid- 
ered a  moment.  'All  right,  I'll  hunt  her  up  and 
have  her  get  a  divorce,'  he  volunteered  cheer- 
fully. 

"He  was  very  puzzled  and  perplexed  when  I 
vetoed  that.  He  says  I  can't  have  the  true  artistic 
temperament,  I  am  so  ghastly  religious.  At  any 
rate,  I  have  not  seen  him  since,  and  have  not 
answered  his  notes.  Now,  don't  weep  over  me, 
Carol,  and  think  my  young  affections  were  tri- 
fled with.  They  weren't — because  they  didn't 
have  time.    But  I  am  not  taking  any  chances. 


RUBBING  ELBOWS  233 

"Henceforth  I  get  my  sentiment  second  hand. 

"The  girl  at  our  table,  Emily  Jarvis,  who  is  a 
spherist,  attributes  all  the  good  fortune  that  has 
come  to  you  and  David  to  the  fact  that  at  heart 
you  are  in  harmony  with  the  spheres.  You  don't 
know  what  a  spherist  is,  and  neither  do  I.  But 
it  includes  a  lot  of  musical  terms,  and  metaphors, 
and  is  something  like  Christian  Science  and  New 
Thought,  only  more  so.  Spherists  believe  in  a 
life  of  harmony,  and  somehow  or  other  they  get 
the  spheres  back  of  it,  and  believe  in  immaterial 
matter,  and  that  all  physical  manifestations  are 
negative,  and  the  only  positive,  or  affirmative,  is 
'harmony.' 

"Emily  is  very,  very  pretty,  and  that  sort  of 
excuses  her  for  digging  into  the  intricacies  of 
spheral  harmonies.  Even  such  unmitigated  non- 
sense as  sphere  control,  spirit  harmony,  and  men- 
tal submission,  assumes  a  semblance  of  dignity 
when  expounded  by  her  cherry-red  lips.  She 
speaks  vacuously  of  being  under  world-domi- 
nance, and  has  absolutely  no  physical  conscious- 


234  SUNNY  SLOPES 

ness.  She  says  so  herself.  If  she  ignores  her 
tempting  curves  and  matchless  softness,  she  is 
the  only  one  in  the  house  who  does.  In  fact,  it 
is  only  the  attraction  of  her  very  physical  being, 
which  she  denies,  that  lends  a  species  of  sense 
to  her  harmonious  converse.  She  and  I  are  great 
friends.  She  says  I  am  a  harmonizer  on  the 
inside. 

"She  is  engaged  to  a  man  across  the  hall,  Rod- 
ney Carter.  She  has  the  room  next  to  mine. 
His  voice  is  deep  and  carrying,  hers  is  clear  and 
ringing,  and  the  walls  are  thin.  So  I  have  bene- 
fited by  most  of  their  courtship.  But  the  course 
of  true  love,  you  know.  She  has  tried  spirit- 
ually and  harmoniously  to  convert  him  to  imma- 
terialism,  but  Rodney  is  very  conscious  of  his 
physical,  muscular,  material  being,  and  he  hoots 
at  her  derisively,  but  tenderly. 

"  'Oh,  cut  it  out,  Emily/  he  said,  one  evening. 
'We  can  only  afford  one  spirit  in  the  family. 
One  of  us  has  got  to  earn  a  living.  Spirits,  it 
seems,  require  plenty  of  steak  and  potatoes  to 


RUBBING  ELBOWS  235 

keep  them  in  harmony.  I  could  not  conscien- 
tiously lead  you  to  the  altar,  even  a  spheral  altar, 
if  I  were  not  prepared  to  pay  house  rent  and 
coal  bills.  One's  enough,  you  can  be  our 
luxury/ 

"  'But,  Rod,  if  you  are  in  harmony  you  can 
earn  our  living  so  much  more  easily.  You  must 
get  above  this  notion  of  material  necessities. 
There  are  no  such  things/ 

"  'I  don't  believe  it/  he  interrupted  coldly. 
'There  are  material  necessities.  You  are  one 
of  them.  The  most  necessary  in  the  world. 
You  may  be  harmonious,  but  you  are  material, 
too.  That  is  why  I  love  you.  I  couldn't  be 
crazy  about  a  melodious  breath  of  air  ghosting 
around  the  back  yard.  And  I  am  not  strong  for 
disembodied  minds,  either.  They  make  me  nerv- 
ous. They  sound  like  skulls  and  cross-bones, 
and  whitening  skeletons  to  me.  I  love  you, 
your  arms,  your  face,  all  of  you.  It  may  not 
be  proper  to  talk  about  it,  but  I  love  it.  Can 
you  imagine  our  minds  embracing  each  other, 


236  SUNNY  SLOPES 

thrilling  at  the  contact, — oh,  it's  tommyrot.  A 
fool—' 

"  'It  may  be  tommyrot  to  you,  Rod,'  said  Em- 
ily haughtily.  'But  the  inspiration  of  the  match- 
less minds  of  the  mystic  men  of  the  Orient — ' 

"  'Inspiration  of  idiocy.  What  do  mystic  men 
of  the  Orient  know  about  warm-blooded  Amer- 
icans, dead  in  love?  I  might  kiss  the  air  until 
I  was  blue  in  the  face, — nothing  to  it, — but  let 
me  kiss  you,  and  we  are  both  aquiver,  and — ' 

"  'Rodney  Carter,  don't  you  dare  say  such 
things,'  she  cried  furiously.  'It  is  insulting. 
Besides  it  has  nothing  to  do  with  it.  It  isn't 
so  anyhow.     And  what  is  more — ' 

"  'There's  nothing  mysterious  about  us.  Let 
the  old  Chinesers  pad  around  in  their  bare  feet 
and  naked  souls  if  they  want  to.  We  are  chil- 
dren of  light,  we  are,  creatures  of  earth,  earthly. 
We're—' 

"  'Oh,  I  can't  argue  with  you,  Rod,'  she  began 
confusedly. 

"  'I  don't  want  you  to.     Kiss  me.     One  kiss, 


RUBBING  ELBOWS  237 

Emily  mine,  will  confound  the  whole  united 
order  of  Maudlin  Mystics.  I  am  willing  to  risk 
all  the  anathemas  contained  in  an  inharmonious 
sphere  for  one  touch  of  your  lips.  Go  ahead 
with  your  sacred  doctrine  of  universal  and 
spiritual  imbecility,  but  soften  its  harshness  with 
worldly,  physical,  sin-suggesting  kisses,  and  I 
am  in  tune  with  the  infinite.' 

"Then  Emily  broke  the  engagement,  and  Rod- 
ney, after  relieving  himself  of  more  heretical 
opinions  of  spiritual  simplicity  and  mystic  mad- 
ness, stalked  unmelodiously  away,  slamming  her 
door,  and  his  own  after  it. 

"What  I  didn't  hear  of  it  myself,  Emily  told 
me  afterward,  for  we  are  very  confidential. 

"The  whole  house  was  intensely  interested  in 
the  denouement.  Rodney  sat  stolidly  at  his 
table,  crunching  his  food,  gazing  reproachfully 
and  adoringly  at  Emily's  proudly  lifted  head. 
Emily,  for  all  her  unconsciousness  of  physical 
necessity,  lost  her  appetite,  and  grew  pale.  The 
mental  and  physical  may  have  nothing  in  har- 


238  SUNNY  SLOPES 

mony,  as  she  says,  but  certainly  her  mental  up- 
heaval resulting  from  the  lack  of  Rodney's 
demonstrations  of  love,  affected  her  physical  ap- 
petite as  well  as  her  complexion. 

"When  Rodney  met  Emily  in  the  halls,  he 
made  her  life  miserable. 

"  'Good  morning,  Long  Sin  Coo.'  'Hello, 
Ghostie.'  'Hey,  Spirit,  may  I  borrow  a  nip  of 
brandy  to  make  an  ethereal  cocktail  for  my 
imaginary  nightcap?' 

"And  he  opened  his  transom  and  took  to  talk- 
ing to  himself  out  loud.  So  Emily  decided  to 
close  her  transom.  It  stuck.  She  asked  my 
assistance,  and  we  balanced  a  chair  on  a  box 
and  I  held  it  steady  while  she  got  up  to  oil  the 
transom.  But  first  she  would  lose  her  balance, 
then  she  would  drop  the  oil  can,  then  the  box 
would  slip.  She  couldn't  reach  the  joints,  or 
whatever  you  call  them,  and  when  she  stood  on 
tiptoe  she  lost  her  balance.  Then  she  got  her 
finger  in  the  joint  and  pinched  it,  emitting  a  most 
material  squeal  as  she  did  so.     Happening  to 


RUBBING  ELBOWS  239 

glance  through  the  transom,  she  saw  Rodney 
standing  below  in  the  hall,  grinning  at  her  with 
inharmonious,  unspiritual,  unsentimental  glee, 
and  she  tugged  viciously  at  the  transom,  banging 
herself  off  the  box,  upsetting  the  chair,  and 
squirting  oil  all  over  me  as  she  fell. 

"Rodney  rushed  to  the  rescue,  but  Emily  was 
already  scrambling  into  sitting  posture,  scared, 
bruised  and  furious.  She  had  torn  her  dress, 
twisted  her  ankle,  bumped  her  head  and 
scratched  her  face.    And  Rodney  had  seen  it. 

"Ignoring  me,  Rodney  sat  down  on  the  box 
and  looked  her  over  with  cold  professional  eyes. 

"  'My  little  seeker  after  truth,'  he  said,  you 
are  a  mystic  combination  of  spirit  and  mind. 
You  are  in  tune  with  the  infinite  spheres.  You 
are  a  breath  in  a  universal  breeze.  Therefore 
you  feel  no  inconvenience.  Get  up,  my  child, 
and  waltz  an  Oriental  hesitation  down  the  hall 
and  convince  yourself  everlastingly  that  you  are 
in  truth  only  a  mysterious  unit  in  a  universe  of 
harmonic  chords.' 


240  SUNNY  SLOPES 

"Emily  dropped  her  head  on  the  oil  can,  lifted 
up  her  voice  and  wept.  And  Rodney,  with  an 
exclamation  that  a  minister's  daughter  can  not 
repeat,  took  the  unhappy  mystic  into  his  arms. 

"  'Sweetheart,  forgive  me.  I  am  a  brute,  I 
know.  Knock  me  on  the  head  with  the  oil  can, 
won't  you?  Don't  cry,  sweetheart, — Emily, 
don't.' 

"Finally  Emily  spoke.  'You  are  as  mean  and 
hateful  as  you  can  be,  Rodney  Carter,'  she  said, 
burrowing  more  deeply  into  his  shoulder.  'And 
I  despise  you.  And  I  am  going  to  marry  you, 
too,  just  to  get  even  with  you.  Give  me  back 
my  engagement  ring.'  Rodney  ecstatically  did. 
The  touch  of  her  lovely,  material  body  must  have 
thrilled  him,  for  he  kissed  her  all  over  the  top  of 
the  head,  her  face  being  hidden. 

"I  stood  my  ground.  I  was  looking  for  liter- 
ary material  since  I  never  have  a  chance  to  make 
romance  for  myself.    Emily  spoke  again. 

"  'I  know  now  that  the  Vast  Infinite  intends  us 
for  each  other.    I  have  been  dwelling  in  Perfect 


RUBBING  ELBOWS  241 

Harmony  the  last  four  days,  trusting  the  All 
Perfection  to  bring  us  together  again.  So  I 
know  that  our  union  was  decreed  from  the  foun- 
dation by  the  Universal  sphere.  I  tell  you,  Rod, 
you  can't  get  ahead  of  the  Infinite.' 

"Then  I  went  to  my  own  room,  and  they  never 
knew  when  I  left, — they  didn't  even  remember 
I  had  been  there.  But  as  I  came  back  from  an- 
swering the  phone  at  eleven  o'clock,  I  met  Rod 
in  the  hall.  He  had  some  books  in  his  hand. 
He  ducked  them  behind  him  when  he  saw  me. 
I  reached  for  them  sternly,  and  he  pulled  them 
out  rather  sheepishly.  I  read  the  titles,  'Spheral 
Mentality,'  'Infinite  Spheres,'  'Spheral  Har- 
mony.' 

"  'Made  me  promise  to  read  'em,  too,'  he  con- 
fided in  a  whisper.  'And  by  George,  she  is 
worth  it.' 

"Oh,  I  tell  you,  Carol,  these  boarding-houses 
are  chuck  full  of  literary  material.  Really,  I  am 
developing.  I  know  it.  I  feel  it  every  day.  I 
rub  elbows  with  every  one  I  meet,  and  I  like  it. 


242  SUNNY  SLOPES 

I  don't  care  if  they  aren't  'My  Kind'  at  all.  I 
am  learning  to  reach  down  to  the  same  old 
human  nature  back  of  all  the  different  kinds. 
Isn't  that  growth? 

"You  asked  about  the  millionaire's  son.  He 
still  comes  to  see  me  every  once  in  a  while.  He 
says  he  can't  promise  to  let  me  spend  all  of  his 
millions  for  missions  if  I  marry  him, — says  he 
has  too  much  fun  spending  them  on  himself, — 
but  he  insists  that  I  may  do  whatever  I  like  with 
him.  Isn't  it  too  bad  I  can't  feel  called  upon  to 
take  him  in  hand? 

"Anyhow,  if  I  had  a  million  dollars  do  you 
know  what  I  would  do?  Buy  an  orphans'  home, 
and  dump  'em  all  in  a  big  ship  and  go  sailing, 
sailing  over  the  bounding  main.  I'd  kidnap  Julia 
and  take  her  along. 

"He  was  here  last  week,  and  sent  his  love  to 
you,  and  best  wishes  to  David.  He  told  me  to 
ask  particularly  how  your  complexion  gets  along 
out  in  the  sunny  mesa  land. 


RUBBING  ELBOWS  £43 

"I  want  to  see  you.  I  am  saving  up  my  pen- 
nies religiously,  and  when  they  have  multiplied 
sufficiently  I  am  coming.  Thanks  for  the  invi- 
tation. Lovingly  as  always, 

"CJQWMft* 


CHAPTER  XVIII 
Quiescent 

LONG  but  not  dreary  weeks  followed  one 
after  the  other.  In  the  little  'dobe  cottage, 
situated  far  up  the  hill  on  the  mesa,  Carol  and 
David  lived  a  life  of  passionless  routine.  Carol 
was  busy,  hence  she  had  the  easier  part.  David's 
breakfast  on  a  tray  at  seven,  nourishment  at 
nine,  luncheon  at  twelve,  nourishment  at  three, 
dinner  at  six,  nourishment  at  nine, — with  medi- 
cines to  be  administered,  temperatures  to  be 
taken,  alcohol  rubs  to  be  given  at  frequent  inter- 
vals,— this  was  Carol's  day.  And  at  odd  hours 
the  house  must  be  kept  clean  and  sanitary,  dishes 
washed,  letters  written.  And  whenever  the  mo- 
ment came,  David  was  waiting  for  her  to  come 
and  read  aloud  to  him. 

When  a  man  of  action,  of  energy,  of  bound- 

244 


QUIESCENT  245 

less  enthusiasm  is  tossed  aside,  strapped  with 
iron  bands  to  a  little  white  cot  on  a  screened 
porch  with  a  view  of  a  sunburned  mesa  reach- 
ing off  to  the  mountains,  unless  he  is  of  the  big- 
gest, and  finest,  his  personality  can  not  survive. 
David's  did.  Months  of  helplessness  lay  behind 
him,  a  life  of  inaction  lay  before  him.  He  could 
walk  a  half  block  or  so,  he  could  go  driving  with 
kind  neighbors  who  invited  him,  but  every  avenue 
of  service  was  closed,  every  form  of  expression 
denied  him.  He  had  hoped  to  live  a  full,  good, 
glowing  life.     And  there  he  lay. 

It  is  not  work  which  tells  the  caliber  of  man, 
but  idleness. 

Month  followed  month,  now  there  were  bitter 
winds  and  blinding  snows,  now  the  hot  sun 
scorched  the  yellow  sand  of  the  mesa,  now  the 
mountains  were  high  white  clouds  of  snow,  now 
the  fields  of  green  alfalfa  showed  on  a  few  dis- 
tant foothills,  and  the  canyons  were  green  with 
pines.     Otherwise  there  was  no  change. 

But  the  summers  in  New  Mexico  were  crush- 


246  SUNNY  SLOPES 

ingly,  killingly  hot,  and  so  the  sturdy-hearted 
health  chasers  left  the  'dobe  cottage,  packed  their 
few  possessions  and  moved  up  into  Colorado. 
And  while  David  waited  patiqntly  in  the  hotel, 
Carol  set  forth  alone  and  found  a  small  cottage 
with  sleeping  porch,  cleanly  and  nicely  fur- 
nished, rent  reasonable,  no  objections  to  health 
seekers.  And  she  and  David  moved  into  their 
new  home. 

And  the  old  life  of  Albuquerque  began  again, 
meals,  nourishments  and  medicines  alternating 
through  the  days. 

In  the  summer  of  the  third  year,  Carol  wrote 
to  Connie: 

"Haven't  you  been  saving  up  long  enough? 
We  do  so  want  to  see  you,  and  Colorado  is  beau- 
tiful. We  haven't  the  long  mesa  stretching  up 
to  the  sunny  slopes  as  it  was  in  New  Mexico,  but 
from  our  tiny  cottage  we  can  look  right  over 
the  city  to  the  mountains  on  the  other  side,  and 
the  sunny  slopes  are  there.  So  please  count  your 
pennies.     They  give  summer  rates  you  know." 


QUIESCENT  247 

Connie  went  down  to  Mount  Mark  the  night 
she  received  that  letter,  spending  half  the  night 
in  the  train,  and  talked  it  over  with  the  family. 
Without  a  dissenting  voice,  they  said  she  ought 
to  go.  Ten  days  later,  Carol  and  David  were 
exulting  over  Connie's  letter. 

"Yes,  thank  you,  I  am  coming.  In  fact,  I  was 
only  waiting  for  the  word  from  you.  So  I  shall 
start  on  Monday  next,  C,  B.  &  Q.,  reaching 
Denver  Tuesday  afternoon  at  2 :30.  Be  sure  and 
meet  me. 

"I  nearly  lost  my  job,  too.  I  went  to  Mr. 
Carver  and  said  I  wanted  a  vacation.  He  said 
'All  right,  when  and  how  long?'  I  said,  'Begin- 
ning next  Monday/  He  nodded.  'To  continue 
six  weeks/  He  nearly  died.  He  asked  what 
kind  of  an  institution  for  the  feeble-minded  I 
thought  this  was.  I  said  I  hadn't  solved  it  yet. 
He  reminded  me  that  I  have  already  had  one 
week's  vacation,  and  three  days  on  two  differ- 
ent occasions.  He  said  he  hired  people  to  work, 
not  to  visit  their  relatives  at  his  expense.     He 


248  SUNNY  SLOPES 

said  I  had  one  week  of  vacation  coming.  And 
I  interrupted  to  say  I  didn't  expect  any  salary 
during  that  time,  I  just  wanted  him  to  hold  my 
position  for  me.  He  said  he  was  astonished  I 
didn't  ask  him  to  discontinue  publication  during 
my  absence.  Finally  he  said  I  might  have  one 
week  on  full  pay,  and  one  week  without  pay,  and 
that  was  enough  for  a  senator. 

"So  I  went  to  my  machine  and  wrote  out  a 
very  literary  resignation  which  I  handed  to  him. 
I  know  the  business  now,  and  I  have  met  a  lot 
of  publishers,  so  I  was  safe  in  resigning.  I  knew 
I  could  get  another  position  in  three  days.  He 
tore  the  resignation  up,  and  said  he  wished  I 
could  outgrow  my  childishness. 

"Before  luncheon,  he  said  he  had  a  good  idea. 
We  were  away  behind  in  clippings  for  filling 
and  he  suggested  that  I  take  a  big  bundle  of 
exchanges  with  me,  and  clip  while  I  vacated. 
Also  I  could  doubtless  find  the  time  to  write  a 
thousand  or  so  words  a  week  and  send  it  in, 
and  then  I  might  go  on  full  pay  for  six  weeks. 


QUIESCENT  249 

Figuratively  I  fell  upon  his  neck  and  kissed 
him, — purely  figuratively,  for  his  wife  has  a  most 
annoying  way  of  dropping  in  at  unexpected 
hours, — and  I  am  getting  the  most  charming 
new  clothes  made  up,  so  David  will  think  I  am 
prettier  than  you.  Now  don't  withdraw  the 
invitation,  for  I  shall  come  anyhow." 

Carol  considered  herself  well  schooled  in  the 
art  of  emotional  restraint,  but  when  she  finished 
reading  those  blessed  words — which  to  her  ears, 
so  hungry  for  the  voices  of  home,  sounded  like 
an  extract  from  the  beatitudes — she  put  her  head 
on  the  back  of  David's  hand  and  gulped  audibly. 
And  she  admitted  that  she  must  certainly  have 
cried,  save  for  the  restraining  influence  of  the 
knowledge  that  crying  made  her  nose  red. 

In  the  meantime,  back  in  Iowa,  the  Starrs  in 
their  separate  households,  were  running  riot. 
Never  was  there  to  be  such  a  wonderful  visit  for 
anybody  in  the  world.  Jerry  and  Prudence  bun- 
dled up  their  family,  and  got  into  a  Harmer  Six 


250  SUNNY  SLOPES 

and  drove  down  to  Mount  Mark,  where  they  en- 
sconced themselves  in  the  family  home  and  an- 
nounced their  intention  of  staying  until  Connie 
had  gone.  As  soon  as  Fairy  heard  that,  she  ha- 
stened home  too,  full  of  the  glad  tiding  that  she 
had  found  a  boy  she  wanted  to  adopt  at  last. 
Lark  and  Jim  neglected  the  farm  shamefully, 
and  all  the  women  of  the  neighborhood  were 
busy  making  endless  little  odds  and  ends  of 
dainty  clothing  for  Carol,  who  had  lived  ready- 
made  during  the  three  years  of  their  domicile 
in  the  shadowland  of  sunshine. 

A  hurried  letter  was  despatched  to  David's 
doctor,  asking  endless  questions,  pledging  him 
to  secrecy,  and  urging  him  to  wire  an  answer 
C.  O.  D.  Little  Julia  was  instructed  as  to  her 
mother's  charms  and  her  father's  virtues  far 
beyond  the  point  of  her  comprehension.  And 
Jerry  spent  long  hours  with  Connie  in  the  car, 
explaining  its  mechanism,  and  making  her  a 
really  proficient  driver,  although  she  had  been 
very  skilful  behind  the  wheel  before.    Also,  he 


QUIESCENT  251 

wrote  long  letters  to  his  dealer  in  Denver,  giv- 
ing him  such  a  host  of  minute  instructions  that 
the  bewildered  agent  thought  the  "old  gent  in 
Des  Moines  had  gone  daft." 

Carol  wrote  every  day,  pitifully,  jubilantly, 
begging  Connie  to  hurry  and  get  started,  ad- 
monishing her  to  take  a  complete  line  of  snap- 
shots of  every  separate  Starr,  to  count  each 
additional  gray  hair  in  darling  father's  head, 
and  to  locate  every  separate  dimple  in  Julia's 
fat  little  body.  And  every  letter  was  answered 
by  every  one  of  the  family,  who  interrupted 
themselves  to  urge  everybody  else  not  to  give 
anything  away,  and  to  be  careful  what  they  said. 
And  they  all  cried  over  Julia,  and  over  Carol's 
letters,  and  even  cried  over  the  beautiful  assort- 
ment of  clothes  they  had  accumulated  for  Carol, 
using  Lark  as  a  sewing  model. 

Twenty  minutes  after  the  train  left  Mount 
Mark,  came  a  telegram  from  Carol :  "Did  she  get 
off  all  right  ?  Did  anything  happen  ?  Wire  imme- 


252  SUNNY  SLOPES 

diately."  And  the  whole  family  rushed  off 
to  separate  rooms  to  weep  all  over  again. 

But  Aunt  Grace  walked  slowly  about  the  house, 
gathering  up  blocks,  and  headless  dolls,  and 
tailless  dogs,  and  laying  them  carefully  away  in 
a  drawer  until  little  Julia  should  return  to  visit 
the  family  in  Mount  Mark. 

For  the  doctor  had  said  it  was  all  right  to 
restore  the  baby  to  her  heart-hungering  parents 
in  the  mountain  land.  Carol  was  fairly  strong, 
David  was  fairly  well.  The  baby  being  healthy, 
and  the  parents  being  sanitary,  the  danger  to  its 
tiny  lungs  was  minimized, — and  by  all  means 
send  them  the  baby. 

So  Julia  was  arrayed  in  matchless  garments 
destined  to  charm  the  eyes  of  the  parents,  who, 
in  their  happiness,  would  never  realize  it  had 
any  clothes  on  at  all,  and  Connie  set  out  upon 
her  journey  with  the  little  girl  in  her  charge. 

On  Tuesday  morning,  Carol  was  a  mental 
wreck.  She  forgot  to  salt  David's  eggs,  and 
gave  him  codeine  for  his  cough  instead  of  tonic 


QUIESCENT  253 

tablets  for  his  appetite.  She  put  no  soda  in  the 
hot  cakes,  and  made  his  egg-nog  of  buttermilk. 
She  laughed  out  loud  when  David  was  asking 
the  blessing,  and  when  he  wondered  how  tall 
Julia  was  she  burst  out  crying,  and  then  broke 
two  glasses  in  her  energetic  haste  to  cover  up 
the  emotional  outbreak.  Altogether  it  was  a 
most  trying  morning.  She  was  ready  to  meet 
the  train  exactly  two  hours  and  a  half  before 
it  was  due,  and  she  combed  David's  hair  three 
times,  and  whenever  she  couldn't  sit  still  another 
minute  she  got  up  and  dusted  the  railing  around 
the  porch,  brushed  off  his  lounging  jacket,  and 
rearranged  the  roses  in  the  vase  on  his  table. 

"David,  I  honestly  believe  I  was  homesick. 
I  didn't 'know  it  before.  I  got  along  all  right 
before  I  knew  she  was  coming,  but  now  I  want 
to  jump  up  and  down  and  shout.  Why  on 
earth  didn't  she  take  an  earlier  train  and  save 
me  this  agony?" 

At  last,  in  self-defense,  David  insisted  that 
she  should  start,  and,  too  impatient  to  wait  for 


254  SUNNY  SLOPES 

cars  and  to  endure  their  stopping  at  every 
corner,  she  walked  the  two  miles  to  the  station, 
arriving  breathless,  perspiring  and  flushed.  Even 
then  she  was  thirty  minutes  ahead  of  time,  but 
finally  the  announcer  called  the  train,  and  Carol 
stationed  herself  at  the  exit  close  to  the  gate 
to  watch  the  long  line  of  travelers  coming  up 
from  the  subway.  No  one  noticed  the  slender 
woman  standing  so  motionless  in  the  front  of 
the  waiting  line,  but  the  angels  in  Heaven  must 
have  marked  the  tumult  throbbing  in  her  heart, 
and  the  happiness  stinging  in  her  bright  eyes. 

Then — she  leaned  forward.  That  was  Connie 
of  course, — she  caught  her  breath,  and  tears 
started  to  her  eyes.  Yes,  that  was  Connie,  that 
tall  slim  girl  with  the  shining  face, — and  oh, 
kind  and  merciful  Providence,  that  must  be  her 
own  little  Julia  trudging  along  beside  her,  the 
fat  white  face  turning  eagerly  from  side  to 
side,  confident  she  was  going  to  know  that 
mother  on  sight,  just  because  they  had  told  her 
a  mother  was  what  most  belonged  to  her. 


QUIESCENT  255 

Carol  twisted  her  hands  together,  wringing 
her  gloves  into  a  shred.  She  moistened  her  dry- 
lips,  and  blinked  desperately  to  crowd  away  those 
tears.  Yes,  it  was  Connie,  the  little  baby  sister 
she  used  to  tease  so  mercilessly,  and  Julia,  the 
little  rosebud  baby  she  had  wanted  so  many- 
nights.  She  could  not  bear  to  let  those  ugly 
tears  dim  her  sight  for  one  minute,  she  dare 
not  miss  one  second  of  that  feast  to  her  hun- 
gering eyes. 

The  two  sisters  who  had  not  seen  each  other 
for  nearly  four  years,  looked  into  each  other's 
faces,  Carol's  so  pleadingly  hungry  for  the  vision 
of  one  of  her  own,  Connie's  so  strongly  sweet 
and  reassuring.  Instinctively  the  others  drew 
away,  and  the  little  group,  the  red-capped  at- 
tendant trailing  in  the  rear,  stood  alone. 

"Julia,  this  is  your  mama,"  said  Connie,  and 
the  wide  blue  eyes  were  lifted  wonderingly  into 
those  other  wide  blue  eyes  so  like  them, — the 
mother  eyes  that  little  Julia  had  never  known. 


256  SUNNY  SLOPES 

Carol,  with  an  inarticulate  sob  dropped  on  her 
knees  and  gathered  her  baby  into  her  arms. 

Julia,  who  had  been  told  it  was  to  be  a  time 
of  laughter,  or  rejoicing,  of  utter  gaiety,  mar- 
veled at  the  pain  in  the  face  of  this  mother 
and  patted  away  the  tears  with  chubby  hands, 
laughing  with  excitement.  By  the  time  Carol 
could  be  drawn  from  her  wild  caressing  of  the 
rosebud  baby,  she  was  practically  helpless.  It 
was  Connie  who  marshaled  them  outside,  tipped 
the  red-capped  attendant,  waved  a  hand  to 
the  driver  waiting  across  the  street,  directed 
him  about  the  baggage,  and  saw  to  getting  Carol 
inside  and  seated. 

Only  once  Carol  came  back  to  earth,  "Mercy, 
Connie,  taxis  cost  a  fortune  out  here." 

"This  isn't  a  taxi,"  said  Connie,  "it  is  just  a 
car. 

But  Carol  did  not  even  hear  her  answer,  for 
Julia,  enchanted  at  being  so  lavishly  enthroned 
in  the  attention  of  any  one,  lifted  her  lips  for 


/•j^'H^ft.  vMK.t/*fc^v  o%&«*jm  —- 


Carol,  with  an  inarticulate  sob,  gathered  her  baby  in  her  arms 


QUIESCENT  257 

another  noisy  kiss,  and  Carol  was  deaf  to  the 
rest  of  the  world. 

Her  one  idea  now  was  to  get  this  precious, 
wonderful,  matchless  creature  home  to  David 
,as  quickly  as  possible. 

"Hurry,  hurry,"  she  begged.  "Make  him  go 
faster,  Connie." 

"He  can't,"  said  Connie,  laughing.  "Do  you 
want  to  get  us  pinched  for  speeding  the  first 
thing?" 

And  Julia,  catching  the  word,  immediately 
pinched  both  her  auntie  and  her  mama,  to 
show  them  she  knew  what  they  were  talking 
about.  And  Carol  was  stricken  dumb  at  the 
wonderful,  unbelievable  cleverness  of  this  re- 
markable infant. 

When  the  car  stopped  before  her  cottage,  she 
forgot  her  manners  as  hostess,  she  forgot  the 
baggage,  and  the  driver,  and  even  sister  Connie. 
She  just  grabbed  Julia  in  her  arms  and  rushed 
into  the  cottage,   back  through  the  kitchen  to 


258  SUNNY  SLOPES 

the  sleeping  porch  in  the  rear,  and  stood  gloating 
over  her  husband. 

"Look,  look,  look,"  she  chanted.  "It  is  Julia, 
she  is  ours,  she  is  here."  David  sat  up  in  bed, 
his  breath  coming  quickly. 

Carol,  like  a  goddess  of  plenty  dispensing 
royal  favors,  dumped  the  smiling  child  on  the 
bed  and  David  promptly  seized  her. 

By  this  time  Connie  had  made  her  arrange- 
ments with  the  driver,  and  escorted  herself 
calmly  into  the  house,  trailing  the  family  to 
the  porch,  gently  readjusting  Julia  who  was 
nearly  turned  upside  down  by  the  fervor  of  her 
papa  and  mama,  and  informed  David  that  she 
wanted  to  shake  hands.  Thus  recalled,  David 
did  shake  hands,  and  looked  pleased  when  she 
commented  on  how  well  he  was  looking.  But 
in  her  heart,  Connie,  the  young,  untouched  by 
sorrow,  alive  with  the  passion  for  work,  was 
crying  out  in  resentment.  Big,  buoyant,  active 
David  reduced  to  this.  Carol,  radiant,  glowing, 
gleaming    Carol, — this    subdued    gentle    woman 


QUIESCENT  259 

with  the  thin  face  and  dark  circles  beneath  her 
eyes.  "Oh,  it  is  wrong,"  thought  Connie, — 
though  she  still  smiled,  for  hearts  are  marvelous 
creations,  holding  such  sorrow,  and  hiding  it  well. 

When  their  wraps  were  removed,  Julia  sat 
on  David's  table,  with  David's  hand  squeezing 
her  knees,  and  Carol  clutching  her  feet,  and 
with  Connie,  big  and  bright,  sitting  back  and 
watching  quietly,  and  telling  them  startling  and 
imaginary  tales  of  the  horrors  she  had  en- 
countered on  the  train.  David  was  entranced, 
and  Carol  was  enchanted.  This  was  their  baby, 
this  brilliant,  talented,  beautiful  little  fairy, — 
and  Carol  alternately  nudged  David's  arm  and 
tapped  his  shoulder  to  remind  him  of  the  dignity 
of  his  fatherhood. 

But  in  one  little  hour,  she  remembered  that 
after  all,  David  was  her  job,  and  even  crowy, 
charming  little  Julia  must  not  crowd  him  aside, 
and  she  hastened  to  prepare  the  endless  egg-nog. 
Then  from  the  kitchen  window  she  saw  the 
auto,  still  standing  before  their  door, 


260  SUNNY  SLOPES 

"Oh,  my  gracious !"  she  gasped.  "We  forgot 
that  driver." 

She  got  her  purse  and  hurried  outside,  but 
the  driver  was  gone,  and  only  the  car  remained. 
Carol  was  too  ignorant  of  motor-cars  to  observe 
that  it  was  a  Harmer  Six,  she  only  wondered 
how  on  earth  he  could  go  off  and  forget  his 
car.  She  carried  the  puzzle  to  David,  and  he 
could  not  solve  it. 

"Are  you  able  to  walk  at  all,  David?"  asked 
Connie. 

"Yes,  indeed,"  he  said,  sitting  up  proudly, 
"I  can  walk  half  a  block  if  there  are  no  steps 
to  climb." 

"Come  out  in  front  and  we'll  investigate," 
she  suggested. 

When  they  reached  the  car,  and  it  took  time 
for  David  walked  but  slowly,  he  promptly  looked 
at  the  name  plate. 

"Harmer  Six,"  he  read.  "Why  this  is  Jerry's 
kind  of  car." 

"Yes,  it  is  his  kind,"  explained  Connie.    "He 


QUIESCENT  261 

and  Prudence  sent  this  one  out  for  you  and 
Carol  and  Julia.  They  have  just  established  an 
agency  here,  and  he  has  made  arrangements  with 
the  dealer  to  take  entire  care  of  it  for  you,  send- 
ing it  up  when  you  want  it,  calling  for  it  when 
you  are  through,  keeping  it  in  repair,  and  pro- 
viding gas  and  oil, — and  the  bill  goes  to  Jerry  in 
Des  Moines." 

One  would  have  thought  enough  happiness 
had  come  to  the  health  seekers  for  one  day. 
Carol  would  have  sworn  she  could  not  possibly 
be  one  little  bit  gladder  than  she  had  been  before, 
with  David  sick,  of  course.  And  now  came  this ! 
How  David  would  love  it.  She  looked  at  her 
husband,  happily  pottering  around  the  engine, 
turning  bolts  and  buttons  as  men  will  do,  and 
she  looked  at  Julia,  proudly  viewing  her  own 
physical  beauties  in  the  shining  body  of  the 
car,  and  she  looked  at  Connie  with  the  charm 
and  glory  of  the  parsonage  life  clinging 
about  her  like  a  halo.  Then  she  turned  and 
walked  into  the  house  without  a  word.    Under- 


262  SUNNY  SLOPES 

standingly,  David  and  Connie  allowed  her  to  pass 
inside  without  comment. 

"Connie,"  said  David  when  they  were  alone, 
"I  believe  God  will  give  you  a  whole  chest  of 
stars  for  your  crown  for  the  sweetness  that 
brought  you  out  here.  Carol  was  sick  for  some- 
thing of  home.  I  wanted  her  to  go  back  for  a 
visit  but  she  would  not  leave  me.  But  she  was 
sick.  She  needed  some  outside  life.  I  can  give 
her  nothing,  I  take  my  life  from  her.  And  she 
needed  fresh  inspiration,  and  you  have  brought 
it."  David  was  silent  a  moment.  "Connie, 
whenever  things  do  get  shadowy  for  us,  the 
clouds  are  pulled  back  so  we  may  see  the  sun 
shining  on  the  slopes  more  brilliantly  than  ever." 

Turning  quickly  she  followed  his  gaze,  and  a 
softness  came  into  her  eyes  as  she  looked.  Truly 
the  darkness  of  the  canyons  seemed  only  to 
emphasize  the  brightness  of  the  ridges  above 
them. 

She  laid  her  hand  on  David's  arm,  that 
strong,   shapely,   capable   hand,    and   whispered, 


QUIESCENT  263 

"David,  if  I  might  have  what  you  and  Carol 
have,  if  I  could  be  happy  in  the  way  that  you 
are,  I  think  I  should  be  willing  to  lose  the  sun- 
shine on  the  slopes  and  dwell  entirely  in  the 
darkness  of  the  canyons.  But  I  haven't  got  it, 
I  don't  know  how  to  get  it."  Then  she  added 
slowly,  "But  I  suppose,  having  what  you  two 
have,  one  could  not  lose  the  sunshine  on  the 
slopes." 


CHAPTER  XIX 

Re-Creation 

WERE  you  ever  wakened  in  the  early 
morning  by  the  clear  whistle  of  a 
meadow-lark  over  your  head,  with  the  rich 
scent  of  the  mountain  pines  coming  to  you 
on  the  pure  light  air  of  a  new  day,  with 
the  sun  wrapping  the  earth  in  misty  blue, 
and  staining  the  mountains  with  rose?  To 
David,  lying  on  his  cot  in  the  open  air,  every 
dawning  morning  was  a  new  creation,  a  brand 
new  promise  of  hope.  To  be  sure,  the  enchant- 
ment was  like  to  be  broken  in  a  moment,  still 
the  call  of  the  morning  had  fired  his  blood,  and 
given  him  a  new  impetus, — impetus,  not  for 
work,  not  for  ambition,  not  for  activity,  just  an 
impetus  to  lie  quietly  on  his  cot  and  be  happy. 
The  birds  were  shortly  rivaled  by  the  sweeter, 

264 


RE-CREATION  265 

dearer,  not  less  heavenly  voice  of  little  Julia, 
calling  an  imaginary  dog,  counting  her  mother's 
eyes,  or  singing  to  herself  an  original  improviso 
upon  the  exalted  subject  of  two  brown  bugs. 
And  a  moment  later,  came  the  sound  of  rap- 
turous kissing,  and  Carol  was  awake.  And  before 
the  smile  of  content  left  his  face,  she  stood  in 
the  doorway,  her  face  flushed  with  sleep,  her 
hair  tumbling  about  her  face,  a  warm  bath  robe 
drawn  about  her.  Always  her  greeting  was 
the  same. 

"Good  morning,  David.  Another  glorious 
day,  isn't  it?" 

Then  Julia  came  splashing  out  in  Aunt 
Connie's  new  rose-colored  boudoir  slippers,  with 
Connie  in  hot  barefooted  pursuit.  And  the 
new  day  had  begun,  the  riotous,  delirious  day, 
with  Julia  at  the  helm. 

Connie  had  amusing  merry  tales  to  tell  of 
her  work,  and  her  friends,  and  the  family  back 
home.  And  time  had  to  be  crowded  a  little  to 
make  room  for  long  drives  in  the  Harmer  Six. 


266  SUNNY  SLOPES 

Carol  promptly  learned  to  drive  it  herself,  and 
David,  tentatively  at  first,  talked  of  trying  his 
own  hand  on  it.  And  finally  he  did,  and  took  a 
boyish  satisfaction  in  his  ability  to  manipulate 
the  gears.  Oh,  perhaps  it  made  him  a  little 
more  short  of  breath,  and  he  found  that  his 
nerves  were  more  highly  keyed  than  in  the  old 
time  days, — anyhow  he  came  home  tired,  hungry, 
ready  to  sleep. 

Even  the  occasional  windy  or  cloudy  days, 
when  the  Harmer  Six  was  left  wickedly  wast- 
ing in  the  garage,  had  their  attractions.  How 
the  girls  did  talk!  Sometimes,  when  they  had 
finished  the  dishes,  Carol,  intent  on  Connie's 
story,  stood  patiently  rubbing  the  dish  pan  a 
hundred,  a  thousand  times,  until  David  would 
call  pleadingly,  "Girls,  come  out  here  and  talk." 
Then,  recalled  in  a  flash,  they  rushed  out  to  him, 
afraid  the  endless  chatter  would  tire  him,  but 
happy  that  he  liked  to  hear  it. 

"Speaking  of  lovers,"  Connie  would  begin 
brightly, — for  like  so  many  of  the  very  charm- 


RE-CREATION  267 

ing  girls  who  see  no  charm  in  matrimony,  most 
of  Connie's  conversation  dealt  with  that  very- 
subject.  And  it  was  what  her  auditors  liked  best 
of  all  to  hear.  Why,  sometimes  Carol  would 
interrupt  right  in  the  middle  of  some  account  of 
her  success  on  the  papers,  to  ask  if  a  certain 
man  was  married,  or  young,  or  good  looking. 
After  all,  getting  married  was  the  thing. 
And  Connie  was  not  sufficiently  enthusiastic 
about  that.  Writing  stories  was  very  well,  and 
poems  and  books  had  their  place  no  doubt,  but 
Shakespeare  himself  never  turned  out  a  master- 
piece to  compare  with  Julia  sitting  plump  and 
happy  in  the  puddle  of  mud  to  the  left  of  the 
kitchen  door,  her  round  pink  face  streaked  and 
stained  and  grimy. 

"I  really  did  decide  to  get  married  once," 
Connie  began  confidentially,  when  they  were 
comfortably  settled  on  the  porch  by  David's  cot. 
"It  was  when  I  was  in  Mount  Mark  one  time. 
Julia  was  so  sweet  I  thought  I  could  not  possibly 
wait  another  minute.     I  kept  thinking  over  the 


268  SUNNY  SLOPES 

men  in  my  mind,  and  finally  I  decided  to  apply 
my  business  training  to  the  problem.  Do  you 
remember  Dan  Brooks?'* 

Carol  nodded  instantly.  She  remembered  all 
the  family  beaus  from  the  very  beginning.  "A 
doctor  now,  isn't  he?  Lives  next  door  to  the 
folks  in  Mount  Mark.  I  used  to  think  you  would 
marry  him,  Connie.  He  is  well  off,  and  nice, 
too.    And  a  doctor  is  very  dignified." 

Connie  agreed  warmly,  and  David  laughed. 
All  the  Starrs  had  been  so  sensible  in  discussing 
the  proper  qualifications  for  lovers,  and  all  had 
impulsively  married  whenever  the  heart  dictated. 

"Yes,  that's  Dan.  Did  you  ever  notice  that 
cluster  of  lilac  bushes  outside  our  dining-room 
window?  Maybe  you  used  it  in  your  own 
beau  days.  It  is  a  lovely  place  to  sit,  very 
effective,  for  Dan's  study  overlooks  it  from  the 
up-stairs,  and  their  dining-room  from  down- 
stairs. So  whenever  I  want  to  lure  Dan  I  sit  under 
the  lilacs.   He  can't  miss  me. 

"One  day  I  planted  myself  out  there  with  a 


RE-CREATION  269 

little  red  note-book  and  the  telephone  directory. 
Dan  and  his  mother  were  eating  luncheon.  I 
was  absorbed  in  my  work,  but  just  the  same  I 
had  a  wary  eye  on  Dan.  He  shoved  back  his 
chair,  and  got  up.  Then  he  kissed  his  mother 
lightly  and  came  out  the  side  door,  whistling. 
I  looked  up,  closed  the  directory,  snapped  the 
lock  on  my  note-book,  and  took  the  pencil  out  of 
my  mouth.  I  said,  'Hello,  Danny.'  Then  I 
shoved  the  books  behind  me. 

"  'Hello,  Connie. — No,  I  wouldn't  invite  Fred 
Arnold  if  I  were  you.  It  would  just  encourage 
him  to  try,  try  again,  and  it  would  mean  an 
additional  wound  in  the  heart  for  him.  Leave 
him  out.' 

"I  frowned  at  him.  'I  am  not  doing  a  party/ 
I  said  coldly. 

"'No?  Then  why  the  directory?  You  are 
not  reading  it  for  amusement,  are  you?  You 
are  not — ' 

"  'Never  mind,  Dan.  It  is  my  directory,  and 
if  I  wish  to  look  up  my  friends — ' 


270  SUNNY  SLOPES 

"  'Look  up  your  friends  P  Dan  was  plainly 
puzzled.  'None  of  my  business,  of  course,  but 
it  is  a  queer  notion.  And  why  the  tablet? 
Are  you  taking  notes  r  He  reached  for  the  note- 
book with  the  easy  familiarity  that  people  use 
when  they  have  known  you  all  your  life.  I  shoved 
it  away  and  flushed  a  little.  I  can  flush  at  a 
second's  notice,  Carol.  It  is  very  effective  in  a 
crisis.  I'll  teach  you,  if  you  like.  It  only  re- 
quires a  little  imagination." 

Carol  hugged  her  knees  and  beamed  at  Connie. 
"Go  on,"  she  begged.    "How  did  it  turn  out?" 

"  'Well/  he  said,  'you  must  be  writing  a 
book.  Are  you  looking  up  heroes?  Mount  Mark 
isn't  tremendously  rich  in  hero  material.  But 
here  am  I,  tall,  handsome,  courageous/ 

"I  sniffed,  then  I  smiled,  then  I  giggled.  'Yes,' 
I  agreed,  'I  was  looking  up  heroes,  but  not  for 
a  book.' 

"'What  for  then?' 

"  'For  me/ 

"'For  you?' 


RE-CREATION  271 

"  'Yes,  for  me.  I  want  a  hero  of  my  own. 
Dan,'  I  said  in  an  earnest  impressive  manner, 
'you  may  think  this  is  very  queer,  and  not  very . 
modest,  but  I  need  a  confidant,  and  Aunt  Grace 
would  think  I  am  crazy.  Cross  your  heart  you'll 
never  tell  ?' 

"Dan  obediently  crossed,  and  I  drew  out  the 
books. 

"  'I  am  going  to  get  married/ 

"Dan  pulled  his  long  members  together  with 
a  jerk  and  sat  up.     He  was  speechless. 

"I  nodded  affirmatively.  'Yes.  Does  it  sur- 
prise you?' 

"'Who  to?'  he  demanded  furiously  and  un- 
grammatically. 

"  T  haven't  just  decided,'  I  vouchsafed  re- 
luctantly. 

"  'You  haven't — great  Scott,  are  they  coming 
around  in  droves  like  that?'  He  glanced  down 
the  street  as  if  he  expected  to  see  a  galaxy  of 
admirers  heaving  into  view.     'I  knew  there  were 


272  SUNNY  SLOPES 

a  few  hanging  around,   but  there  aren't  many 
fellows  in  Mount  Mark/ 

"  'No,  not  many,  and  they  aren't  coming  in 
droves.    I  am  going  after  them.' 

"Having  known  me  almost  since  my  toothless 
days,  Dan  knew  he  could  only  wait. 

"  'I  am  getting  pretty  old,  you  know.' 

"He  looked  at  me  critically  and  gave  my  age 
a  smile. 

"  'I  am  very  much  in  favor  of  marriage,  and 
families,  and  such  things.  I  want  one  myself. 
And  if  I  don't  hurry  up,  I'll  have  to  adopt  it. 
There's  an  age  limit,  you  know.' " 

"  'Age  limit,'  he  exploded. 

"  'I  think  I  shall  have  a  winter  wedding,  a 
white  one,  along  in  January.  Not  in  December, 
it  might  interfere  with  my  Christmas  presents.' 

"  'Connie—' 

"  'I  am  going  to  be  very  systematic  about  it. 
In  this  note-book  I  am  making  a  list  of  all  the 
nice  Mount  Markers.  I  couldn't  think  of  any 
myself  right  offhand,  so  I  had  to  resort  to  the 


RE-CREATION  273 

directory.  Now  I  shall  go  through  the  list  and 
grade  them.  Some  are  black-marked  right  at 
the  start.  Those  that  sound  reasonable,  I  shall 
try  out.  The  one  that  makes  good,  I  shall 
marry.  Fve  got  to  hurry,  too.  My  vacation  only 
lasts  a  week,  and  I  have  to  work  on  my  trousseau 
a  little.  It's  lots  of  fun.  I  am  perfectly  fas- 
cinated with  it.' 

"Dan  had  nothing  to  say.  He  looked  at  me 
with  that  blankness  of  incomprehension  that 
must  be  maddening  in  a  man  after  you  are  mar- 
ried to  him." 

Carol  squeezed  David's  hand  and  gurgled 
rapturously.  This  was  her  great  delight,  to  get 
Connie  talking,  so  cleverly,  of  her  variegated 
and  cosmopolitan  love-affairs. 

"  'I  suppose  you  are  surprised/  I  said  kindly, 
'and  naturally  you  think  it  rather  queer.  You 
mustn't  let  any  one  know.  Mount  Mark  could 
never  comprehend  such  modernity.  I  feel  very 
advanced,  myself.^  I  want  to  spring  up  and  shout, 
"Votes    for    Women"    or    "Up    with    the    Red 


274  SUNNY  SLOPES 

Flag,"  or  "Villa  Forever,"  or  something  else 
outspoken  and  bloody.'  " 

Carol  and  David  shook  with  laughter,  silently, 
not  to  interrupt  the  story. 

"  'How  about  love,  Connie  ?'  suggested  Dan, 
meekly. 

"  'I  believe  in  love,  absolutely.  That  is  my 
strongest  point.  As  soon  as  I  find  a  champion, 
I  am  going  to  concentrate  all  my  energy  and  all 
my  talent  on  falling  dead  in  love  with  him.' 

"  'Have  you  found  any  eligibles  yet  ?' 

"  'Yes,  Harvey  Grath,  and  Robert  Ingersoll, 
and  Cal  Keith,  and  Doctor  Meredith.' 

"  'Where  do  I  come  in  ?' 

"  'Oh,  we  know  each  other  too  well,'  I  said 
with  discouraging  promptness.  The  real  fascina- 
tion in  getting  married  is  the  novelty  of  it. 
There  wouldn't  be  any  novelty  in  marrying  you. 
I  know  as  much  about  you  as  your  mother  does. 
Eggs  fried  over,  meat  well  done,  no  gravy, 
breakfast  in  bed  Sunday  morning,  sporting  pages 
first, — it  would  be  like  marrying  father.     Now  I 


RE-CREATION  275 

must  get  to  work,  Danny,  so  you'd  better  trot 
along  and  not  bother  me.  And  you  must  keep 
away  evenings  unless  you  have  a  date  in  ad- 
vance. You  might  interrupt  something  if  you 
bob  in  unannounced/ 

"  'May  I  have  a  date  this  evening?'  he  asked 
with  high  hauteur. 

"  'So  sorry,  Danny,  I  have  a  date  with  Cal 
Keith.'  I  consulted  the  note-book.  To-morrow 
night  Doctor  Meredith.  Thursday  night,  Buddy 
Johnson.' 

"'Friday  then?' 

"'Yes,  Friday.' 

"The  next  time  he  saw  me,  he  said  first  thing, 
which  proved  he  had  been  thinking  seriously,  'I 
suppose  it  will  be  the  end  of  my  hanging  around 
here  if  you  get  married.' 

"Evidently  he  thought  I  would  contradict  him. 
But  I  didn't. 

"  T  am  afraid  so,'  I  admitted.  'My  husband 
will  be  so  fearfully  jealous !  He  will  be  so  crazy 


276  SUNNY  SLOPES 

about  me  that  he  won't  allow  another  man  to 
come  within  a  mile  of  me/ 

"Dan  snorted.  'You  don't  know  how  crazy 
he'll  be  about  you.' 

"  'Oh,  yes,  I  do,  for  when  I  pick  him  out,  I'll 
see  to  that  part  of  it.  That  will  be  easy.  It  is 
picking  him  out  that  is  hard/ 

"You  know  how  Dan  is,  Carol.  He  is  very 
fond  of  the  girls,  especially  me,  and  he  makes 
love  in  a  sort  of  semi- fashion,  but  he  never  really 
wanted  to  get  married.  He  liked  to  be  a  bachelor. 
He  noticed  how  other  men  ran  down  after 
marriage,  and  he  didn't  want  to  run  down.  He 
saw  how  so  many  girls  went  to  seed  after  mar* 
riage,  and  he  didn't  want  them  to  belong  to  him. 
'Let  well  enough  alone,  you  fool/  was  his 
philosophy.  I  knew  it.  He  had  told  me  about 
it  often,  and  I  always  said  it  was  sound  good 
sense. 

"The  second  afternoon  I  told  him  I  was  going 
to  wear  white  lace  to  be  married  in,  and  had 
jpicked  out  my  bridesmaids.    I  asked  him  where 


RE-CREATION  277 

would  be  a  nice  place  to  go  for  a  honeymoon, 
and  he  flung  himself  home  in  a  huff,  and  said  it 
was  none  of  his  business  where  I  went  but  he 
suggested  New  London  or  Danville.  I  showed 
no  annoyance  when  he  left  so  abruptly.  I  was 
too  busy.  I  drew  my  feet  up  under  me  and  went 
on  making  notes  in  my  red  book.  He  looked 
out  from  behind  the  windows  of  the  dining-room, 
carefully  concealed  of  course,  but  I  saw  him.  I 
could  hear  him  nearly  having  apoplexy  when  he 
saw  me  utterly  and  blissfully  absorbed  in  my 
book." 

Carol  chuckled  in  ecstasy.  She  foresaw  that 
Connie  was  practically  engaged  to  Dan,  a  prince 
of  a  fellow,  and  she  was  so  glad.  That  little 
scamp  of  a  Connie,  to  keep  it  secret  so  long. 

"Oh/'  she  cried,  "I  always  thought  you  loved 
each  other." 

"So?"  asked  Connie  coolly.  "Dan  admitted 
he  was  surprised  that  my  plans  worked  so  easily. 
Before  that  he  had  been  my  escort  on  every 
occasion,  and  the  town  accepted  it  blandly.   Now 


278  SUNNY  SLOPES 

I  had  a  regular  series  of  attendants,  and  Dan 
was  relegated  to  a  few  spare  moments  under  the 
lilacs  now  and  then.  He  couldn't  see  how  I  got 
hold  of  the  fellows.  He  said  they  were  perfect 
miffs  to  be  nosed  around  like  that.  Why  didn't 
they  show  some  manhood?  Boneless,  brainless 
jelly  fishes,  jumping  head  first  because  a  little 
snip  of  a  girl  said  jump. 

"The  third  day  I  called  him  on  the  phone. 

"  'Dan,  come  over  quick.  I  have  the  loveliest 
thing  to  show  you/ 

"He  did  not  wait  for  a  hat.  He  dashed  out 
and  over  the  hedge,  and  I  had  the  door  open 
for  him. 

"  'Oh,  look/  I  gurgled.  I  am  not  a  very 
good  gurgler,  but  sometimes  you  just  have  to 
do  it. 

"Dan  looked.    'Nothing  but  silverware,  is  it?' 

"I  was  hurt.  'Nothing  but  silverware?  Why, 
it  is  my  silverware,  for  my  own  little  house.  It 
cost  a  terribly,  criminally  lot,  but  I  couldn't  resist 
it.      I    really    feel   much   more   settled   since   I 


RE-CREATION  279 

bought  it.  There  is  something  very  final  about 
silverware.  See  these  pretty  doilies  I  am 
making.  Aunt  Grace  is  crocheting  a  bedspread 
for  me,  too.  Those  are  guest  towels, — they 
were  given  to  me.' 

"Dan's  lips  curled  scornfully.  He  turned  the 
lovely  linens  roughly,  and  wiped  his  hands  on  a 
dainty  guest  towel. 

"  'Connie,  this  is  downright  immodest.  Fur- 
nishing your  house  before  you  have  a  lover  T 

"  'Do  you  think  so  ?'  I  kissed  a  circular  hand- 
embroidered  table-cloth.  Tf  I  had  known  it  was 
such  fun  furnishing  my  house,  I'd  have  had  the 
lover  years  ago  and  don't  you  forgit  it/ 

"  T  am  disappointed  in  you/ 

"  T  am  sorry,'  I  said  lightly.  'But  I  am  so 
excited  over  getting  married,  that  I  can't  bother 
much  about  what  mere  friends  think  any  more. 
My  husband's  opinions — ' 

"  'Mere  friends,'  he  shouted.  'Mere  friends !  I 
am  no  mere  friend,  Connie  Starr.   I'M — I'M — * 

"'Yes,  what  are  you?' 


280  SUNNY  SLOPES 

"  'Well,  I  am  your  pal,  your  chum,  your  old 
schoolmate,  your  best  friend,' — ' 

"  'Oh,  that  was  before  I  was  engaged.' 

"  'Engaged  ?'  Dan  was  staggered.  'Are  you 
really  engaged  then?  Have  you  found  the  right 
one?' 

"  'Being  engaged  alters  the  situation.  You 
must  see  that/ 

"'Who  is  it?' 

"  'Oh,  don't  be  so  silly.  I  haven't  found  the 
right  one  yet.  But  the  principle  is  just  the  same. 
With  marriage  just  ahead  of  me,  all  the  rest  of 
the  world  must  stand  back  to  give  place  to  my 
fiance/ 

"Dan  sneered.  'Yeh,  look  at  the  world  stand- 
ing back  and  gazing  with  envy  on  this  moon- 
beam fiance.    Look !' 

"  'Oh,  Dan  it  is  the  most  fascinating  thing  in 
the  world.  In  four  months  I  may  be  standing  at 
the  altar,  dressed  in  filmy  white, — I  bought  the 
veil  yesterday, — promising  to  love,  honor  and 
obey, — with  reservations, — for  the  rest  of  my 


RE-CREATION  281 

life.  A  little  home  of  my  own,  a  husband  to  pet, 
and  chum  with, — I  am  awfully  happy,  Dan, 
honestly  I  am.' 

"And  Carol  I  did  enjoy  it.  It  was  fun.  I 
was  simply  hypnotized  with  the  idea  of  having 
a  house  and  a  husband  and  a  lot  of  little  Julias. 
Dan  glared  at  me  in  disgust.  Then  he  went 
home,  snarling  about  my  mushiness.  But  he 
thought  it  was  becoming  to  me.  He  said  I  got 
prettier  every  day.  I  would  not  even  let  him 
touch  my  hand  any  more.  You  know  Dan  and 
I  were  pretty  good  pals  for  a  long  time,  and  he 
was  allowed  little  privileges  like  that.  Now  it 
was  all  off.  Dan  might  rave  and  Dan  might 
storm,  but  I  stood  firm.  He  could  not  touch 
my  hands!  I  was  consecrated  to  my  future 
husband. 

"  Tt  may  not  be  wicked,  Dan,  I  do  not  say  it 
is.  But  it  makes  me  shiver  to  think  what  would 
happen  if  my  husband  caught  you  doing  it.  He 
might  kill  you  on  the  spot/ 

"  'You  haven't  got  a  husband/  Dan  would  snap. 


282  SUNNY  SLOPES 

"  The  principle  is  just  the  same/  Then  I 
would  dimple  up  at  him.  I  am  not  the  dimply 
type  of  girl,  I  know,  but  there  are  times  when 
one  has  simply  got  to  dimple  at  a  man,  and 
by  wrinkling  my  face  properly  I  can  give  the 
dimple  effect.  I  have  practised  it  weary  hours 
before  the  mirror.  I  have  often  prayed  for  a 
dimpled  skin  like  yours,  Carol,  but  I  guess  the 
Lord  could  not  figure  out  how  to  manage  it  since 
my  skin  was  practically  finished  before  I  began 
to  pray.  'I  keep  wondering  what  he  will  like  for 
breakfast/  I  said  to  Dan.  'Isn't  that  silly?  I 
hope  he  does  not  want  fried  potatoes.  It  seems 
so  horrible  to  have  potatoes  for  breakfast/  Then 
I  added  loyally,  'But  he  will  probably  be  a  very 
strong  character,  original,  and  unique,  and  men 
like  that  always  have  a  few  idiosyncrasies,  so  if 
he  wants  fried  potatoes  for  breakfast  he  shall 
have  them/ 

"Dan  sniffed  again.  He  was  becoming  a 
chronic  sniffer  in  these  days  of  my  engagement. 

"  Teh,  he'll  want  fried  potatoes  all  right,  and 


RE-CREATION  283 

postum,  and  left-over  pumpkin  pie.  I  have  a 
picture  of  the  big  mutt  in  my  mind  now.  "Con- 
stance," he'll  say,  "for  pity's  sake  put  more  lard 
in  the  potatoes  when  you  fry  them.  They  are 
too  dry.  Take  them  back  and  cook  them  over." 
He  will  want  his  potatoes  swimming  in  grease, 
he  is  bound  to,  that's  just  the  kind  of  man  he  is. 
He  will  want  everything  greasy.  Oh,  you're 
going  to  have  a  sweet  time  with  that  big  stiff.' 

"I  shook  my  fist  at  him.  'He  will  not !'  I  cried. 
'Don't  you  dare  make  fun  of  my  husband.  He — 
he — '  Then  I  stopped  and  laughed.  'Isn't  it  funny 
how  women  always  rush  to  defend  their  hus- 
bands when  outsiders  speak  against  them?  We 
may  get  cross  at  them  ourselves,  but  no  one 
else  shall  ridicule .  them.' 

"  'Yes,  you  are  one  loving  little  wife  all  right. 
You  sure  are.  You  won't  let  any  one  say  a 
mean  word  against  your  sweet  little  snookie- 
ookums.  Oh,  no.  Wait  till  you  get  to  darning 
his  socks,  you  won't  be  so  crazy  about  him  then.' 

"  T  do  get  a  little  cross  when  I  darn  his  socks/ 


284  SUNNY  SLOPES 

I  confessed.  'I  don't  mind  embroidering  mono- 
grams on  his  silk  shirts,  but  I  can't  say  that  so 
far  I  really  enjoy  darning  his  socks.  Still,  since 
they  are  his,  it  is  not  quite  so  bad.  I  wouldn't 
darn  anybody  else's,  not  even  my  own/ 

"  'Are  you  doing  it  already  ?'  Dan  gasped.  He 
found  it  very  hard  to  keep  me  and  my  husband 
straight  in  his  mind. 

"  'I  am  just  pretending.  I  practise  on  fathers. 
I  want  to  be  a  very  efficient  darner,  so  my 
patches  won't  make  his  poor  dear  feet  sore/ 

"  'Lord  help  us,'  cried  Dan,  springing  to  his 
feet  and  flinging  himself  through  the  hedge  and 
slamming  the  door  until  it  shook  the  house.  He 
went  away  angry  every  time.  He  simply  couldn't 
be  rational.  One  day  he  said  he  guessed  he 
would  have  to  be  the  goat  and  marry  me  himself 
just  to  keep  me  out  of  trouble.  Then  he  blushed, 
and  went  home  and  forgot  his  hat. 

"Came  down  to  the  last  day.  'It  has  simmered 
down  to  Harvey  Grath  and  Buddy  Johnson/  I 
told  him.     'Harvey   Grath, — Buddy   Johnson, — 


RE-CREATION  285 

Harvey  Grath, — Buddy  Johnson.  Do  run  away, 
Danny,  and  don't  be  a  nuisance.  Harvey  Grath, 
— Buddy  Johnson.' 

"Dan  neglected  his  patients  until  it  is  a  wonder 
they  did  not  all  die, — or  get  well,  or  something. 
He  sat  up-stairs  in  his  study  watching  an  endless 
procession  of  Harvey  Graths  and  Buddy  John- 
sons, coming,  lingering,  going. 

"That  night,  regardless  of  the  illuminat- 
ing moon,  I  took  Buddy  Johnson  to  the  lilac 
corner.  Dan  was  up-stairs  smoking  in  front  of 
his  window.  Buddy  didn't  know  about  that 
window,  but  I  did.  He  took  my  hand,  and  I  let 
him.  I  leaned  my  head  against  his  shoulder, — 
not  truly  against,  just  near  enough  so  Dan  could 
not  tell  the  difference.  Buddy  tried  to  kiss  me,  and 
nearly  did  it.  I  wasn't  expecting  it  just  at  that 
minute.  Dan  sprang  from  his  chair  before  the 
conclusion,  so  he  did  not  know  if  the  kiss  was  a 
fact,  or  not.  Then  I  moved  two  feet  away.  Dan 
came  out  and  marched  across  to  the  lilacs. 

"  'Connie,'  he  said,  T  am  sorry  to  interrupt, 


286  SUNNY  SLOPES 

but  I  need  to  talk  to  you  a  few  minutes.  It  is  a 
matter  of  business/  To  Buddy  he  said,  'You 
know  Connie  always  helps  me  out  when  I  get 
stuck.    Can  you  give  me  a  minute,  Connie?' 

"I  said,  'Of  course  I  can.  You'll  excuse  me 
won't  you,  Buddy?  It  is  getting  late  anyhow.' 

"So  Buddy  went  away  and  Dan  marched  me 
up  on  the  porch  where  it  was  dark  and  shady. 

"  'Are  you  engaged  to  Buddy  Johnson  ?' 

"  'No.' 

"  Thank  Heaven/ 

"  Dan  kissed  me,  regardless  of  the  accusing 
eyes  of  my  husband  in  the  background." 

Carol  breathed  loudly  in  her  relief.  He  kissed 
her.    Connie  did  not  care.    They  were  engaged. 

"Dan  breathlessly  took  back  everything  he 
ever  said  about  getting  married,  and  being  a 
bachelor,  and  so  forth.  He  said  he  was  crazy 
to  be  married,  always  had  been,  but  didn't  find 
it  out  before.  He  said  he  had  always  adored  me. 
And  I  drew  out  my  note-book,  and  showed  him 
the  first  page, — Doctor  Daniel  Brooks,  O.  K.  And 


RE-CREATION  287 

every  other  name  in  the  book  was  checked 
off. 

"Dan  was  jubilant."  Connie's  voice  trailed 
away  slowly,  and  her  earnest  fine  eyes  were 
cloudy. 

"An  engagement,"  cried  Carol,  springing  up. 

"No,"  said  Connie  slowly,  "a  blunder." 

"A  blunder,"  faltered  Carol,  falling  back. 
"You  did  it  on  purpose  to  make  him  propose, 
didn't  you?" 

"Yes,  and  he  proposed,  and  we  were  engaged. 
But  it  was  just  a  blunder.  It  was  not  Dan  I 
wanted.  Carol,  every  woman  feels  like  that  at 
times.  She  is  full  of  that  great  magnificent  ideal 
of  home,  and  husband,  and  little  children.  It 
seems  the  finest  thing  in  the  world,  the  only  flaw- 
less life.  She  can't  resist  it,  for  the  time  being.  She 
feels  that  work  is  silly,  that  success  is  tawdry, 
that  ambition  is  wicked.  It  is  dangerous,  Carol, 
for  if  she  gets  the  opportunity,  or  if  she  can 
make  the  opportunity,  she  is  pretty  sure  to  seize 
it.    I  believe  that  is  why  so  many  marriages  are 


288  SUNNY  SLOPES 

unhappy, — girls  mistake  that  natural  woman- 
wish  for  love,  and  they  get  married,  and  then 
■ — shipwreck." 

Carol  sat  silent. 

"Yes,"  said  David  sympathetically,  "I  think 
you  are  right.    You  were  lucky  to  escape." 

"I  knew  that  evening,  that  one  little  evening 
of  our  engagement,  that  having  a  home  and  a 
husband,  and  even  a  little  child  like  Julia,  would 
never  be  enough.  Something  else  had  to  come 
first.  And  it  had  not  come.  I  went  to  bed  and 
cried  all  night,  so  sorry  for  Dan  for  I  knew  he 
loved  me, — but  not  sorry  enough  to  make  me  do 
him  such  a  cruel  injustice.  The  next  morning  I 
told  him,  and  that  afternoon  I  returned  to 
Chicago. 

"I  have  thought  a  whole  lot  more  of  my  job 
since  then." 

"But  why  couldn't  you  love  him?"  asked  Carol 
impatiently.  "It  seems  unreasonable,  Connie. 
He  is  nice  enough  for  anybody,  and  you  were 
just  ripe  and  ready  for  it. 


RE-CREATION  289 

Connie  shrugged  her  shoulders.  "Why  didn't 
you  love  somebody  else  besides  David?"  she 
asked,  and  laughed  at  the  quick  resentment  that 
flashed  to  Carol's  eyes. 

"Well,"  concluded  Connie,  "God  certainly 
wanted  a  few  old  maids  to  leaven  the  earth,  and 
I  think  I  have  the  making  for  a  good  leavener. 
So  I  write  stories,  and  let  other  women  wash  the 
little  Julias'  faces,"  she  added,  laughing,  as  Julia, 
unrecognizably  dirty,  entered  with  a  soup  can  full 
of  medicine  she  had  painstakingly  concocted  to 
make  her  daddy  well. 


CHAPTER  XX 
Literary  Material 

CONNIE  wanted  to  see  something  out  of 
the  ordinary.  What  was  the  use  of  com- 
ing to  the  wild  and  woolly  if  one  never  saw 
anything  wilder  than  a  movie  of  New  York 
society  life,  or  woollier  than  miles  of  properly 
garbed  motorists  driving  under  the  guidance  of 
blue-coated  policemen  as  safely  and  sanely  as 
could  be  done  in  Chicago. 

It  was  Julia  who  came  to  the  rescue.  She  dis- 
covered on  a  neighbor's  porch,  and  with  admir- 
able socialistic  tendencies  appropriated,  a  glaring 
poster,  with  slim-legged  horses  balancing  them- 
selves in  the  air,  not  at  all  inconveniencing  their 
sunburned  riders  in  varicolored  silk  shirts. 

"Look  at  the  horses  jump  over  the  moon,"  she 
exulted,  kissing  a  scarlet  shirt  in  rapture. 

290 


LITERARY  MATERIAL  291 

Upon  investigation  it  turned  out  to  be  an  irre- 
sistible advertisement  of  the  annual  Frontier 
Days,  at  Fort  Morgan.  Carol  explained  the 
pictures  to  Julia,  while  Connie  looked  over  her 
shoulder. 

"Do  they  do  all  it  says?"  she  asked. 

Carol  did  not  know.  She  had  never  attended 
any  Frontier  Days,  but  she  imagined  they  were 
even  more  wonderful  than  the  quite  impossible 
poster.  Carol's  early  determination  to  adore  the 
Westland  had  become  fixed  habit  at  last.  It  was 
capable  of  any  miracles,  to  her. 

"How  far  is  it  up  there?"  pursued  Connie,  for 
Connie  had  a  very  inartistic  way  of  sticking  to 
her  subject. 

"I  do  not  know.  About  a  hundred  miles,  I 
believe." 

"A  nice  drive  for  the  Harmer,"  said  Connie 
thoughtfully.     "How  are  the  roads?" 

"I  do  not  know,  but  I  think  all  the  roads  are 
good  in  Colorado.  Certainly  no  road  is  impass- 
able for  a  Harmer  Six  with  you  at  the  wheel." 


292  SUNNY  SLOPES 

"I  have  a  notion  to  drive  up  and  see  them," 
said  Connie.    "Literary  material,  you  know." 

"I  want  to  see  the  horsies  fly,  too,"  cried  Julia 
quickly. 

Carol  thought  it  might  do  David  good,  and 
David  was  sure  Carol  needed  a  vacation.  They 
would  think  it  over. 

Connie  immediately  went  down-town  and  re- 
turned with  a  road  guide,  and  her  arm  full  of 
literature  about  frontier  days  in  general.  Then 
it  was  practically  settled.  A  little  distance  of  a 
hundred  miles,  a  splendid  car,  a  driver  like 
Connie!  It  was  nothing.  And  Carol  was  so 
excited  getting  ready  for  their  first  outing  in  the 
years  of  David's  illness,  that  she  forgot  his 
medicine  three  times  in  succession,  and  David 
maliciously  refused  to  remind  her. 

They  all  talked  at  once,  and  agreed  that  it 
was  very  silly  and  dangerous  and  unwise,  but  in- 
sisted it  was  the  most  alluring,  appealing  madness 
in  the  world.    David,  for  over  three  years  limited 


LITERARY  MATERIAL  293 

to  the  orderly,  methodical,  unstimulating  confines 
of  a  screened  porch,  felt  quite  the  old-time 
throbbing  of  his  pulse  and  quickening  of  his 
blood.  Even  the  doctor  waxed  enthusiastic.  He 
looked  into  David's  tired  face  and  said: 

"I  think  it  will  do  him  good.  It  can  not  do 
him  harm/' 

In  the  excitement  of  getting  ready  for  some- 
thing unusual,  he  developed  an  unnatural 
strength  and  simply  could  not  be  kept  in  bed  at 
all.  He  slept  soundly,  ate  heartily,  and  looked 
forward  to  the  trip  in  the  car  so  anxiously  that 
to  the  girls  it  was  really  pitiful. 

Then  came  a  glorious  day  in  September  when 
the  Harmer  Six  stood  early  at  their  door,  the 
lunch  basket  and  suit-cases  were  carefully  ar- 
ranged, and  they  were  off, — off  in  the  beautiful 
Harmer, — off  to  the  country, — to  the  mountains 
and  canyons, — to  climb  one  of  the  sunny  slopes 
that  had  beckoned  to  them  so  enticingly.  Almost 
they  held  their  breath  at  first,  afraid  the  first 


294  SUNNY  SLOPES 

creak  of  the  car  would  waken  them  from  the 
unbelievable  dream. 

Always  as  they  climbed  a  long  hill,  Carol  re- 
minded them  that  they  were  climbing  a  sunny 
slope  that  would  lead  to  a  city  of  gold  at  the 
top,  a  city  where  everything  was  happy  and 
bright,  and  there  was  no  sickness,  no  sorrow, 
no  want.  And  looking  ahead  to  the  spires  of  a 
little  village,  nestling  cloudy  and  blue  on  the 
plains,  she  vowed  it  was  a  golden  city,  and  they 
leaned  forward  to  catch  the  first  sparkle  of  the 
diamond-studded  streets.  And  when  they  reached 
the  city  itself,  little,  ugly,  sordid, — a  city  of  gold, 
perhaps,  to  those  who  had  made  a  fortune  there, 
but  not  by  any  means  a  golden  city  of  dreams 
to  the  Arcady  travelers, — Carol  shook  herself 
and  said  it  was  a  mistake,  she  meant  the  next 
one. 

Rooms  had  been  engaged  in  advance  at  the 
Bijou,  on  the  ground  floor,  for  the  sake  of 
David's  softened  muscles,  and  they  reached  the 
town  ahead  of  the  regular  Frontier  Day  crowds, 


LITERARY  MATERIAL  295 

allowing  themselves  plenty  of  time  to  get  rested 
and  to  see  the  whole  thing  start. 

Julia  frolicked  on  the  wide  velvety  lawn  with 
all  the  dogs  and  cats  and  children  that  could  be 
drawn  from  the  surrounding  neighborhood. 
David  sat  on  the  porch  in  a  big  chair,  enjoying 
the  soft  breezes  sweeping  down  over  the  plains, 
looking  through  half  closed  lids  out  upon  the 
quiet  shaded  street.  Carol  crouched  excitedly 
in  another  chair  beside  him,  squeezing  his  hand 
to  call  attention  to  every  sunburned  picturesque 
son  of  the  plains  that  galloped  down  that  way. 
But  Connie,  with  the  lustful  eyes  of  a  fortune- 
hunter  walked  up  and  down  the  corridors,  peer- 
ing here  and  peeking  there,  listening  avidly  to 
every  unaccustomed  word  that  was  spoken, — ■ 
getting  material. 

Quickly  the  hotels  were  filled  to  capacity,  and 
overflowed  to  cots  in  the  hall,  rugs  on  the 
porches,  and  piles  of  straw  in  the  stables.  The 
street  so  quietly  peaceful  on  Sunday,  by  Wednes- 
day was  a  throbbing  thoroughfare,  with  autos, 


296  SUNNY  SLOPES 

wagons  and  horses  whirling  by  in  clouds  of  dust. 
The  main  street,  a  block  away,  was  a  noisy, 
active,  flourishing,  carnival  city,  with  fortune- 
tellers, two-headed  dogs,  snake-charmers,  min- 
strels and  all  the  other  street- fair  habitues  in  full 
possession.  A  dance  platform  was  erected  on  a 
prominent  corner,  and  bands  were  brought  in 
from  all  the  neighboring  towns  on  the  plains. 

Connie  was  convinced  she  could  get  enough 
material  to  last  a  lifetime.  No  detective  was 
hotter  on  the  scent  of  a  trail  than  she.  Never 
two  cowboys  met  in  a  secluded  corner  in  the 
lobby  to  divide  their  hardly  earned  coins,  but 
Connie  sauntered  slowly  by,  catching  every  word, 
noting  the  size  of  every  coin  that  changed  pos- 
session. No  gaily  garbed  horseman  could  signal 
to  a  girl  of  his  admiration,  but  Connie  caught 
the  motion  first,  and  was  taking  mental  notes 
for  future  coinage.  They  were  not  people  to  her, 
just  material.  She  loved  them,  she  reveled  in 
them,  she  dreamed  of  them,  just  as  a  collector  of 
curios  gloats  over  the  treasures  he  amasses.  She 
classified  them  in  a  literary  note-book  for  her 


LITERARY  MATERIAL  297 

own  use,  and  kept  them  on  file  for  instant 
reference. 

When  they  went  to  the  fair-grounds,  early,  in 
order  to  secure  a  comfortable  seat  for  David 
where  he  should  not  miss  one  twist  of  a  rider's 
supple  body,  they  were  as  delighted  as  children 
truanting  from  school.  It  was  the  most  exhilarat- 
ing thing  in  the  world, — this  clever  little  trick 
on  the  sleeping  porch  and  the  white  cot,  on  egg- 
nogs  and  beef  juice  and  buttermilk.  No  wonder 
their  faces  tingled  with  excitement  and  their  eyes 
sparkled  with  delight. 

Connie  was  surprised  that  the  girls  were 
pretty,  really  pretty,  with  pink  and  white  skin 
and  polished  finger  nails,  those  girls  in  the  silk 
blouses  and  khaki  shirts,  those  girls  with  the  wide 
sombrero  and  the  iron  muscles,  who  rode  the 
bucking  horses,  and  raced  around  the  track,  and 
did  a  thousand  other  appalling  things  that  pink- 
skinned,  shiny-nailed  girls  were  not  wont  to  do 
back  home.  They  stayed  at  the  Bijou,  a  whole 
crowd  of  them,  and  Connie  never  let  them  out 


298  SUNNY  SLOPES 

of  her  sight  until  they  closed  their  bedroom 
doors  for  the  night.  They  talked  in  brief  broken 
sentences,  rather  curtly,  but  their  voices  were 
quiet  and  low,  and  they  weren't  half  as  slangy 
as  cowgirls,  by  every  literary  precedent,  ought 
to  be.  They  were  not  like  Connie,  of  course,  tall 
and  slim,  with  the  fine  exalted  face,  with  soft 
pink  palms  and  soft  round  arms.  And  their 
striking  saddle  costumes  were  not  half  as 
curious  to  Fort  Morgan  as  Connie's  lacy  waists, 
and  her  tailored  skirts,  and  her  frilly  little 
silk  gowns.  But  they  were  more  curious  to 
Connie. 

She  tried  to  picture  herself  in  a  sombrero 
like  that,  with  gauntlets  on  her  hands,  and  with 
a  fringed  leather  skirt  that  reached  to  her  knees, 
and  with  a  scarlet  silk  blouse  and  a  yellow  silk 
belt, — and  even  her  distinctly  literary  imagina- 
tion could  not  compass  such  a  miracle.  But  she 
was  sure  if  she  ever  could  rig  herself  up  like 
that,  she  would  look  like  a  dream,  and  she  really 
envied  the  cowgirls,  who  leaped  head  first  from 
the  saddle  but  always  landed  right  side  up. 


LITERARY  MATERIAL  299 

People  of  another  world,  well,  yes.  But  there 
are  ways  of  getting  together. 

Connie  talked  very  little  that  first  afternoon. 
She  watched  the  people  around  her,  and  listened 
as  they  discussed  the  points  of  the  horses,  the 
cowgirls  and  the  jockeys  with  equal  impar- 
tiality. She  heard  their  bets,  their  guttural 
grunts  of  disapproval  with  the  judges'  decisions, 
their  roars  of  satisfaction  when  the  right  horse 
won.  She  watched  the  cowgirls,  walking  un- 
concernedly about  the  ring,  flapping  their  riding- 
whips  against  their  leather  boots.  She  watched 
the  lithe-limbed  cowboys  slouching  not  ungrace- 
fully around  the  nervous  ponies,  waving  their 
hats  in  greeting  to  their  friends,  calling  loud 
jests  to  their  fellows  in  the  cowboy  band.  How 
strange  they  were,  how  startlingly  human,  and 
yet  how  thousand-miles  removed. 

Connie  rebelled  against  it.  They  were  folks. 
And  so  was  Connie.  The  thousand  miles  was  a 
barrier,  an  injustice.  In  order  to  handle  literary 
material,  she  must  get  within  touching  distance 


300  SUNNY  SLOPES 

of  it.  All  those  notes  she  had  collected  so  pains- 
takingly were  cold,  inanimate.  In  order  to  write 
of  folks  she  must  touch  them,  feel  them,  must 
know  they  lived  and  breathed  as  she  did.  Why 
couldn't  she  get  at  them, — folks,  plain  folks,  and 
so  was  she.  A  slow  fury  rose  up  in  her,  and 
she  watched  the  great  events  of  the  afternoon 
with  resentful  eyes.  Even  when  a  man  not 
entered  for  racing,  swung  over  the  railing  into 
the  center  field,  and  scrambled  upon  the  bare 
back  of  King  Devil,  the  wild  horse  of  the  plains 
which  had  never  yielded  to  man's  bridling  hand, 
and  was  tossed  and  dragged  and  jerked  and 
twisted,  until  it  seemed  there  could  be  no  life 
left  in  him,  yet  who  finally  pulled  the  horse 
almost  by  brute  force  into  submission,  while  the 
spectators  went  wild,  and  Julia  screamed,  and 
Carol  sank  breathless  and  white  into  her  seat, 
and  David  stood  on  the  bench  and  yelled  until 
Carol  pulled  him  down, — even  then  Connie 
could  not  get  the  feeling.  She  wanted  to  write 
these  people,   to  put  them  on  paper,   and   she 


LITERARY  MATERIAL  301 

couldn't,  because  they  were  not  people  to  her, 
they  were  just  "Good  points." 

Afterward,  when  they  slowly  made  their  way 
to  the  car,  and  drove  home  to  the  Bijou  again, 
Connie  was  still  silent.  She  saw  David  com- 
fortably settled  in  the  big  chair  on  the  sunny 
corner  of  the  porch,  with  Carol  beside  him  and 
Julia  romping  on  the  lawn.  Then  she  walked  up 
and  down  in  front  of  the  hotel.  Finally  she 
came  back  to  the  corner  of  the  porch. 

"David,"  she  said  impetuously,  "I've  got  to 
speak  to  one  of  them  myself."  She  waved  a 
hand  vaguely  in  the  direction  of  the  fair-grounds. 

"One  of  them?"  echoed  David. 

"Yes,  one  of  those  riders.  I  want  to  see  if 
they  can  make  me  feel  anything.  I  want  to  find 
out  if  they  are  anything  like  other  folks." 

David  looked  up  suddenly,  and  a  smile  came 
to  his  eyes.  Connie  turned  quickly,  and  there, 
not  two  feet  from  her,  stood  "One  of  them," 
the  man  who  had  ridden  King  Devil.  His  som- 
brero was  pushed  back  on  his  head,  and  his  hair 
clung  damply  to  his  brown  forehead.     His  lean 


302  SUNNY  SLOPES 

face  was  cynical,  sneering.  He  carried  a  whip 
and  spurs  in  one  hand,  the  other  rested  on  the 
bulging  hip  of  his  khaki  riding  trousers. 

Connie  stared,  fascinated,  into  the  thin,  brown, 
sneering  face. 

"How  do  you  do?"  he  said  mockingly.  "Isn't 
it  charming  weather  ?" 

Connie  still  looked  directly  into  his  eyes.  Some- 
how she  felt  that  back  of  the  sneer,  back  of  the 
resentment,  there  lay  a  little  hurt  that  she  should 
have  spoken  so,  classed  him  with  fine  horses  and 
cattle,  him  and  his  kind.  Connie  would  make 
amends,  a  daughter  of  the  parsonage  might  not 
do  ungracious  things  like  that. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,"  she  said,  sweetly,  un- 
smilingly,  "I  did  not  mean  to  be  rude.  But  the 
riders  did  fascinate  me.  I  am  spellbound.  I 
only  wished  to  see  if  the  charm  would  hold.  I 
have  not  been  in  the  West  before  this."  She  held 
out  her  hand,  slender,  white,  appealing. 

The  man  looked  at  her  curiously  in  turn,  then 
he  jerked  off  his  sombrero  and  took  her  hand 


'I  beg  your  pardon,"   she  said,   sweetly,   unsmilingly,   "I   did  not 
mean  to  be  rude" 


LITERARY  MATERIAL  303 

in  his.  There  was  the  contact,  soft  white  skin 
of  the  city,  hard  brown  hand  of  the  mountain 
plains,  and  human  blood  is  swift  to  leap  in  re- 
sponse to  an  unwonted  touch. 

Connie  drew  her  hand  away  quickly,  but  his 
eyes  still  held  hers. 

"Let  me  beg  your  pardon  instead,"  he  said. 
"Of  course  you  did  not  mean  it  the  way  it 
sounded.    None  of  my  business,  anyhow." 

"Come  on,  Prince,"  called  a  man  from  the 
road,  curbing  his  impatient  horse.  But  "Prince" 
waved  him  away  without  turning. 

This  was  a  wonderful  girl. 

"I — I  write  stories,"  Connie  explained  hur- 
riedly, to  get  away  from  that  searching  clasp  of 
glances.  "I  wanted  some  literary  material,  and 
I  seemed  so  far  away  from  everything.  I  thought 
I  needed  the  personal  touch,  you  know." 

"Anything  I  can  tell  you?"  he  offered  fever- 
ishly. "I  know  all  about  range  and  ranch  life. 
I  can  tell  you  anything  you  want  to  know." 

"Really?    And  will  you  do   it?    You  know 


304  SUNNY  SLOPES 

writers  have  just  got  to  get  material.  It  is 
absolutely  necessary.  And  I  am  running  very 
short  of  ideas,  I  have  been  loafing." 

He  waited  patiently.  He  was  more  than  will- 
ing to  tell  her  everything  he  knew,  or  could  make 
up  to  please  her,  but  he  had  not  the  slightest  idea 
what  she  wanted.  Whatever  it  was,  he  cer- 
tainly intended  to  make  the  effort  of  his  life  to 
give  her. 

"I  am  Constance  Starr,"  said  Connie,  still 
more  abashed  by  the  unfaltering  presence  of  this 
curious  creature,  who,  she  fully  realized  at  last, 
was  quite  human  enough  for  any  literary  pur- 
pose. "And  this  is  my  brother-in-law,  Mr.  Duke, 
and  my  sister,  Mrs.  Duke." 

"My  name  is  Prince  Ingram." 

David  shook  hands  with  him  cordially,  with 
smiling  eyes,  and  asked  him  to  sit  down  so 
Connie  might  ask  her  questions  in  comfort.  They 
all  took  chairs,  and  Prince  waited.  Connie  racked 
her  brain.  Five  minutes  ago  there  had  been 
ten  thousand  things  she  yearned  to  know  about 


LITERARY  MATERIAL  305 

this  strange  existence.  Now,  unfairly,  she  could 
not  think  of  one.  It  seemed  to  her  she  knew  all 
there  was  to  know  aboiit  them.  They  looked 
into  each  other's  eyes,  men  and  women,  as  men 
and  women  do  in  Chicago.  They  touched  hands, 
and  the  blood  quickened,  the  old  Chicago  style. 
They  talked  plain  English,  they  liked  pretty 
clothes,  they  worshiped  good  horses,  they  lived 
on  the  boundless  plains.  What  on  earth  was 
there  to  ask?  Quite  suddenly,  Connie  under- 
stood them  perfectly. 

But  Prince  realized  that  he  was  not  making 
good.  His  one  claim  to  admission  in  her  pres- 
ence was  his  ability  to  tell  her  what  she  wanted 
to  know.  He  had  got  to  tell  her  things, — but 
what  things?  My  stars,  what  did  she  want  to 
know?  How  oldJie  was,  where  he  was  born,  if 
he  was  married, — oh,  by  George,  she  didn't 
think  he  was  married,  did  she? 

"I  am  not  married,"  he  said  abruptly.  David 
looked  around  at  him  in  surprise,  and  Carol's 
eyes   opened   widely.     But   Connie,   with   what 


306  SUNNY  SLOPES 

must  have  been  literary  intuition,  understood. 
She  nodded  at  him  and  smiled  as  she  asked, 
"Have  you  always  lived  out  here?" 

"No."  He  straightened  his  shoulders  and  drew 
a  deep  breath.  Here  was  a  starter,  it  would  be 
his  own  fault  if  he  could  not  keep  talking  the 
rest  of  the  night.  "No,  I  came  out  from  Co- 
lumbus when  I  was  eighteen.  Came  for  my 
health."  He  squared  his  shoulders  again,  and 
laughed  a  big  deep  laugh  which  made  Connie 
marvel  that  there  should  be  such  big  deep  laughs 
in  the  world. 

"My  father  was  a  doctor.  He  sent  me  out, 
and  I  got  a  job  punching  time  in  the  mines  at 
r  Cripple  Creek.  I  met  some  stock  men,  and  one 
of  them  offered  me  a  job,  and  I  came  out  and  got 
in  with  them.  Then  I  got  hold  of  a  bit  of  land 
and  began  gathering  up  stock  for  myself.  I 
stayed  with  the  Sparker  outfit  six  years,  and  then 
my  father  died.  I  took  the  money  and  got  my 
start,  and — why,  that  is  all."  He  stopped  in 
astonishment.    He  had  been  sure  his  story  would 


LITERARY  MATERIAL  307 

last  several  hours.  He  had  begun  at  the  very 
start,  his  illness  at  eighteen,  and  here  he  was 
right  up  to  the  present,  and — he  rubbed  his  knee 
despairingly.  There  must  be  something  else. 
There  had  to  be  something  else.  What  under 
the  sun  had  he  been  doing  all  these  fourteen 
years  in  the  ranges? 

"Don't  you  ever  wish  to  go  back?"  Connie 
prompted  kindly. 

"Back  to  Columbus?  I  went  twice  to  see  my 
father.  He  had  a  private  sanatorium.  My 
booming  voice  gave  his  nervous  patients  pros- 
trations, and  father  thought  my  clothes  were  not 
sanitary  because  they  could  not  be  sterilized. 
Are  you  going  to  stay  here  for  good?" 

It  was  very  risky  to  ask,  he  knew,  but  he  had 
to  find  out. 

"I  am  visiting  my  sister  in  Denver.  We  just 
came  here  for  the  Frontier  Days,"  said  Connie 
primly. 

'There  is  another  Frontier  Week  at  Sterling," 
be  said  eagerly.    "A  fine  one,  better  than  this, 


308  SUNNY  SLOPES 

It  isn't  far  over  there.  You  would  get  more 
material  at  Sterling,  I  think.  Can't  you  go 
on  up?" 

"I  have  been  away  from  Chicago  four  weeks 
now,"  said  Connie.  "In  exactly  two  weeks  I 
must  be  at  my  desk  again." 

"Chicago  is  not  a  healthy  town,"  he  said,  in  a 
voice  that  would  have  done  credit  to  his  father, 
the  medical  man.  "Very  unhealthy.  It  is  not 
literary  either.  Out  west  is  the  place  for  litera- 
ture. All  the  great  writers  come  west.  Western 
stories  are  the  big  sellers.  There's  Ralph 
Connor,  and  Rex  Beach,  and  Jack  London  and — 
and—" 

"But  I  am  not  a  great  writer,"  Connie  inter- 
rupted modestly.  "I  am  just  a  common  little 
filler-in  in  the  ranks  of  a  publishing  house.  I'm 
only  a  beginner." 

"That  is  because  you  stick  to  Chicago,"  he 
said  eloquently.  "You  come  out  here,  out  in  the 
open,  where  things  are  wide  and  free,  and  you 
can  see  a  thousand  miles  at  one  stretch.     You 


LITERARY  MATERIAL  309 

come  out  here,  and  you'll  be  as  great  as  any  of 
'em, — greater !" 

The  loud  clamor  of  the  dinner  bell  interrupted 
his  impassioned  outburst  and  he  relapsed  into 
stricken  silence. 

"Well,  we  must  go  to  dinner  before  the  supply 
runs  out,"  said  David,  rising  slowly.  "Come 
along,  Julia.  We  are  glad  to  have  met  you,  Mr. 
Ingram."  He  held  out  his  thin,  blue-veined  hand. 
"We'll  see  you  again." 

Prince  looked  hopelessly  at  Connie's  back,  for 
her  face  was  already  turned  toward  the  dining- 
room.  How  cold  and  infinitely  distant  that  tall, 
straight,  tailored  back  appeared. 

"Ask  him  to  eat  with  us,"  Connie  hissed,  out 
of  one  corner  of  her  lip,  in  David's  direction. 

David  hesitated,  looking  at  her  doubtfully. 
Connie  nudged  him  with  emphasis. 

Well,  what  could  David  do?  He  might  wash 
his  hands  of  the  whole  irregular  business,  and  he 
did.  Connie  was  a  writer,  she  must  have  material, 
but  in  his  opinion  Connie  was  too  young  to  be 


310  SUNNY  SLOPES 

literary.  She  should  have  been  older,  or  uglier, 
or  married.  Literature  is  not  safe  for  the  young 
and  charming.  Connie  nudged  him  again. 
Plainly  if  he  did  not  do  as  she  said,  she  was 
going  to  do  it  herself. 

David  turned  to  the  brown-faced,  sad-eyed 
son  of  the  mountain  ranges,  and  said: 

"Come  along  and  have  dinner  with  us,  won't 
you?', 

Carol  pursed  up  her  lips  warningly,  but  Prince 
Ingram,  in  his  eagerness,  nearly  picked  David  up 
bodily  in  his  hurry  to  get  the  little  party  settled 
before  some  one  spoiled  it  all. 

He  wanted  to  handle  Connie's  chair  for  her, 
he  knew  just  how  it  was  done.  But  suppose  he 
pushed  her  clear  under  the  table,  or  jerked  it 
entirely  from  under  her,  or  did  something  worse 
than  either?  A  girl  like  Connie  ought  to  have 
those  things  done  for  her.  Well,  he  would  let  it 
go  this  time.  So  he  looked  after  Julia,  and 
settled  her  so  comfortably,  and  was  so  assidu- 
ously attentive  to  her  that  he  quite  won  her 


LITERARY  MATERIAL  311 

heart,  and  before  the  meal  was  over  she  said 
he  might  come  and  live  with  them  and  be  her 
grandpa,  if  he  wanted. 

"Grandpa,"  he  said  facetiously.  "Do  I  look 
as  old  as  that?  Can't  I  be  something  better  than 
a  grandpa?" 

"Well,  only  one  papa's  the  style,"  said  Julia 
doubtfully.  "And  you  are  too  big  to  be  a  baby, 
and—" 

"Can't  I  be  your  uncle?"  Then,  glancing  at 
Connie  with  a  sudden  realization  of  the  only 
possible  way  the  uncle-ship  could  be  accom- 
plished, he  blushed. 

"Yes,  an  uncle  is  better,"  said  Connie  im- 
perturably.  "You  must  remember,  Julia  dear, 
that  men  are  very,  very  sensitive  about  their  ages, 
and  you  must  always  give  them  credit  for 
youth." 

"I  see,"  said  Julia.  And  Prince  wondered  how 
old  Connie  thought  he  was,  his  hair  was  a  little 
thin,  not  from  age — always  had  been  that  way — 
and  he  was  as  brown  as  a  Zulu,  but  it  was 


312  SUNNY  SLOPES 

only  sunburn.  He'd  figure  out  a  way  of  letting 
her  know  he  was  only  thirty-two  before  the 
evening  was  over. 

"Are  you  going  over  to  the  street  to-night?" 
he  asked  of  David,  but  not  caring  half  a  cent 
what  David  did. 

"I  am  afraid  I  can't.  I  am  not  very  good  on 
my  feet  any  more.  I  am  sorry,  the  girls  would 
enjoy  it." 

"Carol  and  I  might  go  alone,"  suggested 
Connie  bravely.  "Every  one  does  out  here.  We 
wouldn't  mind  it." 

"I  will  not  go  to  a  street  carnival  and  lea\e 
David,"  protested  Carol. 

"It  would  be  rather  interesting."  Connie 
looked  tentatively  from  the  window. 

Prince  swallowed  in  anguish.  She  ought  to 
go,  he  told  them;  she  really  needs  to  go.  The 
evenings  are  so  much  fuller  of  literary  material 
than  day-times.   And  the  dancing — 

"I  do  not  dance,"  said  Connie.     "My  father 


LITERARY  MATERIAL  313 

"You  do  not  dance!  Why,  that's  funny.  I 
don't  either.  That  is,  not  exactly, —  Oh,  once 
in  a  while  just  to  fill  in."  Then  the  latter  part  of 
her  remark  reached  his  inner  consciousness.  "A 
minister.    By  George!" 

"My  husband  is  one,  too,"  said  Carol. 

Prince  looked  helplessly  about  him.  Then  he 
said  faintly,  "I — I  am  not.  But  my  father 
wanted  me  to  be  a  preacher.  He  sent  me  to 
Princeton,  and  I  stuck  it  out  nearly  ten  weeks. 
That  is  why  they  call  me  Prince,  short  for 
Princeton.  I  am  the  only  real  college  man  on 
the  range,  they  say." 

"The  street  fair  must  be  interesting,"  Connie 
went  back  to  the  main  idea. 

"Yes  indeed,  the  crowds,  the  side-shows — 
I  mean  the  exhibits,  and  the  lotteries,  and — I 
am  sure  you  never  saw  so  much  literary  ma- 
terial crowded  into  two  blocks  in  your  life." 

"Oh,  well,  I  don't  mind.  Maybe  some  other 
night  we  can  go."    Connie  was  sweetly  resigned. 

"I  should  be  very  glad, — if  you  don't  mind, — 


314  SUNNY  SLOPES 

I  haven't  anything  else  to  do, — and  I  can  take 
good  care  of  you." 

"Oh,  that  is  just  lovely.  And  maybe  you  will 
give  me  some  more  stories.  Isn't  that  fine, 
David?  It  is  so  kind  of  you,  Mr.  Ingram.  I 
am  sure  I  shall  find  lots  of  material." 

David  kicked  Carol  warningly  beneath  the 
table.  "You  must  go  too,  Carol.  You  have  never 
seen  such  a  thing,  and  it  will  do  you  good.  I 
am  not  the  selfish  brute  you  try  to  make  me. 
You  girls  go  along  with  Mr.  Ingram  and  I  will 
put  Julia  to  bed  and  wait  for  you  on  the  porch." 

Well,  of  course,  Mrs.  Duke  was  very  nice, 
and  anyhow  it  was  better  to  take  them  both 
than  lose  them  both,  and  that  preacher  had  a 
very  set  face  in  spite  of  his  pallor.  So  Prince 
recovered  his  equanimity  and  devoted  himself 
to  enjoying  the  tumultuous  evening  on  the 
street.  He  bought  candy  and  canes  and  pennants 
until  the  girls  sternly  refused  to  carry  another 
bit  of  rubbish.  He  bought  David  a  crimson  and 
gold  silk  handkerchief,  and  an  Indian  bracelet 


LITERARY  MATERIAL  315 

for  Julia,  and  took  the  girls  to  ride  on  the 
merry-go-round,  and  was  beside  himself  with 
joy. 

Suppose  his  friends  of  the  range  did  draw 
back  as  he  passed,  and  gaze  after  him  in  awe 
and  envy.  Suppose  the  more  reckless  ones  did 
snicker  like  fools,  nudging  each  other,  lifting 
their  hats  with  exaggerated  courtesy, — he  should 
worry.  He  had  lived  on  the  range  for  four- 
teen years  and  had  never  had  such  a  chance 
before.  Now  he  had  it,  he  wTould  hang  on  to  it 
if  it  cost  him  every  sheep  he  had  on  the  moun- 
tains. Wasn't  Connie  the  smartest  girl  you  ever 
saw,  always  saying  funny,  bright  things,  and — 
the  way  she  stepped  along  like  a  goddess,  and 
the  way  she  smiled!  Prince  Ingram  had  for- 
gotten that  girls  grew  like  that. 

They  returned  to  the  hotel  early  and  found 
David  waiting  on  the  porch  as  he  had  promised. 
He  was  plainly  tired,  and  Carol  said  he  must 
go  to  bed  at  once.  They  all  rose  and  walked 
to  the  door,  and  then,  very  surprisingly,  Connie 


316  SUNNY  SLOPES 


thought  she  would  like  to  sit  a  while  on  the 
quiet  porch,  from  which  every  other  one  had 
gone  to  the  carnival,  and  collect  her  thoughts. 
Carol  frowned,  and  David  smiled,  but  what 
could  they  do?  They  had  said  they  were  tired 
and  now  they  must  go  to  bed  perforce.  Prince 
looked  after  her,  and  looked  at  the  door  that 
had  closed  behind  David  and  Carol,  and  rubbed 
his  fingers  thoughtfully  under  his  collar, — and 
followed  Connie  back  to  the  porch. 

"Will  it  bother  you  if  I  sit  here  a  while?  I 
won't  talk  if  you  want  to  think." 

"It  won't  bother  me  a  bit,"  she  assured  him 
warmly.  "It  is  nice  of  you  to  keep  me  con> 
pany.     And  I  would  rather  talk  than  think." 

So  he  put  her  chair  at  the  proper  angle  where 
the  street  lamp  revealed  her  clear  white  features, 
and  he  sat  as  close  beside  her  as  he  dared.  She 
did  not  know  it,  but  his  elbow  was  really  on  the 
arm  of  her  chair  instead  of  his  own.  He  almost 
held  his  breath  for  fear  a  slight  move  would  be- 
tray him.     Wasn't  she  a  wonderful  girl?     She 


LITERARY  MATERIAL  317 

turned  sidewise  in  the  chair,  her  head  resting 
against  the  high  back,  and  smiled  at  him. 

"Now  talk,"  she  said.  "Let  us  get  acquainted. 
See  if  you  can  make  me  love  the  mountain 
ranges  better  than  Chicago." 

He  told  her  of  the  clean  sweep  of  the  wind 
around  his  little  cottage  among  the  pines  on  the 
side  of  the  mountain,  of  the  wild  animals  that 
sometimes  prowled  his  way,  of  the  shouting  of 
the  boys  on  the  range  in  the  dark  night,  the 
swaying  of  distant  lanterns,  the  tinkle  of  sheep 
bells.  He  told  her  of  his  father,  of  the  things 
that  he  himself  had  once  planned  to  be  and  do. 
He  told  her  of  his  friends:  of  Lily,  his  pal,  so- 
called  because  he  used  a  safety  razor  every 
morning  of  his  life;  of  Whisker,  the  finest  dog 
in  Colorado;  of  Ruby,  the  ruddy  brown  horse 
that  would  follow  him  miles  through  the  moun- 
tains and  always  find  the  master  at  the  end  of 
the  trail.  And  he  told  her  it  was  a  lonely  life. 
And  it  was.  Prince  Ingram  had  lived  here  four- 
teen years,  with  no  more  consciousness  of  being 


318  SUNNY  SLOPES 

alone  than  the  eagle  perched  solitary  on  the 
mountain  crags,  but  quite  suddenly  he  discovered 
that  it  was  lonely,  and  somehow  the  discovery 
took  the  wonder  from  that  free  glad  life,  and 
made  him  long  for  the  city's  bright  lights,  where 
there  were  others, — not  just  cowboys,  but  reg- 
ular men  and  women. 

"Yes,"  assented  Connie  rather  abruptly,  "I 
suppose  it  would  be  nice  to  be  in  a  crowd  of 
women,  laughing  and  dancing  and  singing.  I 
suppose  you  do  miss  it." 

"That  was  not  what  I  meant,"  said  Prince 
slowly.  "I  don't  care  for  a  crowd  of  them.  Not 
many.  One  is  enough."  He  was  appalled  at 
his  own  audacity,  and  despised  himself  for  his 
cowardice,  for  why  didn't  he  look  this  white 
fine  girl  of  the  city  in  the  eyes  and  say: 

"Yes,  one, — and  you  are  it." 


CHAPTER  XXI 
Adventuring 

IF  CONNIE  truly  was  in  pursuit  of  literary 
material,  she  was  indefatigable  in  the  quest. 
But  sometimes  Carol  doubted  if  it  was  altogether 
literary  material  she  was  after.  And  David  was 
very  much  concerned, — what  would  dignified 
Father  Starr,  District  Superintendent,  say  to  his 
youngest  daughter,  Connie  the  literary,  Connie 
the  proud,  Connie  the  high,  the  fine,  the  perfect, 
delving  so  assiduously  into  the  mysteries  of 
range  life  as  typified  in  big,  brown,  rugged 
Prince  Ingram?  To  be  sure,  Prince  had  risen 
beyond  the  cowboy  stage  and  was  now  a  "stock 
man,"  a  power  on  the  ranges,  a  man  of  money, 
of  influence.    But  David  felt  responsible. 

Yet  no  one  could  be  responsible  for  Connie. 
Father  Starr  himself  could  not.     If  she  looked 

319 


320  SUNNY  SLOPES 

at  one  serenely  and  said,  "I  need  to  do  this,"  the 
rankest  foolishness  assumed  the  proportions  of 
dire  necessity.  So  what  could  David,  sick  and 
weak,  do  in  the  face  of  the  manifestly  im- 
possible ? 

Carol  scolded  her.  And  Connie  laughed. 
David  offered  brotherly  suggestions.  And  Connie 
laughed  again.  Julia  said  Prince  was  a  darling 
big  grandpa,  and  Connie  kissed  her. 

The  Frontier  Days  passed  on  to  their  up- 
roarious conclusion.  Connie  saw  everything, 
heard  everything  and  took  copious  notes.  She 
was  going  to  start  her  book.  She  had  made 
the  acquaintance  of  some  of  the  cowgirls,  and 
she  studied  them  with  a  passionate  eagerness 
that  English  literature  in  the  abstract  had  never 
aroused  in  her  gentle  breast. 

Then  she  became  argumentative.  She  con- 
tended that  the  beautiful  lawn  at  the  Bijou  was 
productive  of  strength  for  David,  rest  for  Carol, 
amusement  for  Julia,  and  literary  material  for 
her.     Therefore,  why  not  linger  after  the  noisy 


ADVENTURING  321 

crowd  had  gone, — just  idling  on  the  long  porches, 
strolling  under  the  great  trees?  And  because 
Connie  had  a  convincing  way  about  her,  it  was 
unanimously  agreed  that  the  Bijou  lawn  could 
do  everything  she  claimed  for  it,  and  by  all 
means  they  ought  to  tarry  a  week. 

It  was  all  settled  before  David  and  Carol 
learned  that  Prince  Ingram  was  tired  of  Frontier 
Days  and  had  decided  not  to  go  on  to  Sterling, 
but  thought  he  too  should  linger,  gathering  up 
something  worth  while  in  Fort  Morgan.  Carol 
looked  at  Connie  reproachfully,  but  the  little 
baby  sister  was  as  imperturbable  as  ever. 

Prince  himself  was  all  right.  Carol  liked  him. 
David  liked  him,  too.  And  Julia  was  frankly 
enchanted  with  him  and  with  his  horse.  But 
Connie  and  Prince, — that  was  the  puzzle  of  it, — 
Connie,  fine  white,  immaculate  in  manner,  in 
person  and  in  thought, — Prince,  rugged  and 
brown,  born  of  the  plains  and  the  mountains. 
Carol  knew  of  course  that  Prince  could  move 
into  the  city,  buy  a  fine  home,  join  good  clubs, 


322  SUNNY  SLOPES 

dress  like  common  men  and  be  thoroughly  re- 
spectable. But  to  Carol  he  would  always  be  a 
brown  streak  of  perfect  horsemanship.  What- 
ever could  that  awful  Connie  be  thinking  of? 

The  days  passed  sweetly  and  rest  fully  on  the 
Bijou  lawn,  but  one  day,  most  unaccountably  to 
Connie,  Prince  had  an  appointment  with  his 
business  partner  down  at  Brush.  He  would  ride 
Ruby  down  and  be  back  in  time  for  dinner  at 
night  if  it  killed  him.  Connie  was  cross  about 
that.  She  thought  he  should  have  asked  her  to 
drive  him  down  in  the  car  but  since  he  did  not 
she  couldn't  very  well  offer  her  services.  What 
did  he  suppose  she  was  hanging  around  that  ugly 
little  dead  burg  for?  Take  out  the  literary 
material,  Fort  Morgan  had  nothing  for  Connie. 
And  since  the  literary  material  saw  fit  to  absent 
itself,  it  was  so  many  hours  gone  for  nothing. 

After  he  had  gone,  Connie  decided  to  play  a 
good  trick  on  him.  He  would  kill  himself  to  get 
back  to  dinner  with  her,  would  he?  Let  him. 
He  could  eat  it  with  David  and  Carol,  and  the 


ADVENTURING  323 

little  Julia  he  so  adored.  Connie  would  take  a 
long  drive  in  the  car  all  by  herself,  and  would 
not  be  home  until  bedtime.  She  would  teach 
that  refractory  Material  a  lesson. 

It  was  a  bright  cloudless  day,  the  air  cold  and 
penetrating.  Connie  said  it  was  just  the  day 
for  her  to  collect  her  thought,  and  she  could  do 
it  best  of  all  in  the  car.  So  if  they  would  excuse 
her, — and  they  did,  of  course.  Just  as  she  was 
getting  into  the  car  she  said  that  if  she  had  a 
very  exceptionally  nice  time,  she  might  not 
come  back  until  after  dinner.  They  were  not 
to  worry.  She  knew  the  car,  she  was  sure  of 
herself,  she  would  come  home  when  she  got 
ready. 

So  off  she  went,  taking  a  naughty  satisfaction 
in  the  good  trick  she  was  playing  on  that  poor 
boy  killing  himself  to  get  back  for  dinner  with 
her.  An  hour  in  the  open  banished  her  pettish- 
ness,  and  she  drove  rapidly  along  the  narrow, 
twisting,  unfamiliar  road,  rinding  a  wild  pleasure 
in  her  reckless  speed.     She  loved  this,  she  loved 


324  SUNNY  SLOPES 

it,  she  loved  it.  She  clapped  on  a  little  more 
gas  to  show  how  very  dearly  she  did  love  it. 

After  a  long  time,  she  found  herself  far  out 
in  a  long  stretch  of  gray  prairie  where  no  houses 
broke  the  bare  line  of  the  plains  for  many  miles. 
It  had  grown  bitterly  cold,  too,  and  a  sudden 
daub  of  gray  splashed  rapidly  across  the  whole 
bright  sky.  Connie  drew  a  rug  about  her  and 
laughed  at  the  wind  that  cut  her  face.  It  was 
glorious, — but — she  glanced  at  the  speedometer. 
She  had  come  a  long  way.  She  would  just  run 
on  to  the  next  village  and  have  some  luncheon, 
— mercy,  it  was  three  o'clock.  Well,  as  soon 
as  she  had  something  to  eat,  she  would  hurry 
home  and  perhaps  if  Prince  showed  himself 
properly  penitent  she  would  not  go  right  straight 
to  bed. 

She  pressed  down  on  the  accelerator  and  the 
car  sped  forward.  Presently  she  looked  around, 
sniffing  the  air  suspiciously.  The  sky  looked 
very  threatening.  She  stopped  the  car  and  got 
out.      The    wind    sweeping    down    from    the 


ADVENTURING  325 

mountains  was  a  little  too  suggestive  of  snow- 
flakes,  and  the  broad  stretch  of  the  plains  was 
brown,  bare  and  forbidding.  She  was  not 
hungry  anyhow.  She  would  go  home  without 
any  luncheon.  So  she  turned  the  car  and 
started  back. 

Here  and  there  at  frequent  intervals  inter- 
secting roads  crossed  the  one  she  was  following. 
She  must  keep  to  the  main  road,  the  heaviest 
track,  she  was  sure  of  that.  But  sometimes  it 
was  hard  to  recognize  the  heaviest  track.  Once 
or  twice,  in  the  sudden  darkening  of  the  ground, 
she  had  to  leap  hurriedly  out  and  examine  the 
tracks  closely.  Even  then  she  could  not  always 
tell  surely. 

Then  came  the  snow,  stinging  bits  of  glass 
leaping  gaily  on  the  shoulders  of  the  wind  that 
bore  them.  Connie  set  her  teeth  hard.  A  little 
flurry  that  was  all,  she  was  in  no  danger,  who- 
ever heard  of  a  snow-storm  the  first  week  in 
October  ? 

But — ah,  this  was  not  the  main  track  after 


326  SUNNY  SLOPES 

all, — no,  it  was  dwindling  away.  She  must  go 
back.  The  road  was  soft  here,  with  deep 
treacherous  ruts  lying  under  the  surface.  She 
turned  the  car  carefully,  her  eyes  intent  on  the 
road  before  her,  leaning  over  the  wheel  to  watch. 
Yes,  this  was  right, — she  should  have  turned 
to  the  left.  How  stupid  of  her.  Here  was  the 
track, — she  must  go  faster,  it  was  getting  dark. 
But  was  this  the  track  after  all, — it  seemed  to  be 
fading  out  as  the  other  had  done?  She  put  on 
the  gas  and  bumped  heavily  into  a  hidden  rut. 
Quickly  she  threw  the  clutch  into  low,  and — 
more  gas —  What  was  that  ?  The  wheel  did  not 
grip,  the  engine  would  not  pull, — the  matchless 
Harmer  Six  was  helpless.  Again  and  again 
Connie  tried  to  extricate  herself,  but  it  was  use- 
less. She  got  out  and  took  her  bearings.  It 
was  early  evening,  but  darkness  was  coming 
fast.  The  snow  was  drifting  down  from  the 
mountains,  and  the  roads  were  nearly  obliterated. 
Connie  was  stuck,  Connie  was  lost,  for  once 
she  was  unequal  to  the  emergency.     In  spite  of 


ADVENTURING  327 

her  imperturbability,  her  serene  confidence  in 
herself,  and  in  circumstances,  and  in  the  final 
triumph  of  everything  she  wanted  and  believed, 
Connie  sat  down  on  the  step  and  cried,  bitterly, 
passionately,  like  any  other  young  women  lost  in 
a  snow-storm  on  the  plains.  It  did  her  good, 
though  it  was  far  beneath  her  dignity.  Presently 
she  wiped  her  eyes. 

She  must  turn  on  the  lights,  every  one  of  them, 
so  if  any  travelers  happened  to  come  her  way 
the  signal  would  summon  them  to  her  aid.  Then 
she  must  get  warm,  one  might  freeze  on  a  night 
like  this.  She  put  up  the  curtains  on*  the  car 
and  wrapped  herself  as  best  she  could  in  rugs 
and  rain  coats.  Even  then  she  doubted  her 
ability  to  withstand  the  penetrating  chill. 

"Well,"  she  said  grimly,  "if  I  freeze  I  am 
going  to  do  it  with  a  pleasant  smile  on  my  lips, 
so  they  will  be  sorry  when  they  find  me."  Tears 
of  sympathy  for  herself  came  into  her  eyes.  She 
hoped  Prince  would  be  quite  heart-broken,  and 
serve  him  right,  too.     But  it  was  terrible  that 


328  SUNNY  SLOPES 

poor  dear  Carol  should  have  this  added  sorrow, 
after  all  her  years  of  trial.  And  it  was  all  Con- 
nie's own  fault.  Would  women  ever  have  sense 
enough  to  learn  that  men  must  think  of  business 
now  and  then,  and  that  even  the  dearest  women 
in  the  world  are  nuisances  at  times? 

Well,  anyhow,  she  was  paying  dearly  for  her 
folly,  and  perhaps  other  women  could  profit  by 
it.  And  all  that  literary  material  wasted.  "But 
it  is  a  good  thing  I  am  not  leaving  eleven  chil- 
dren motherless,"  she  concluded  philosophically. 

If  men  must  think  of  business,  and  they  say 
they  must,  there  are  times  when  it  is  sheer 
necessity  that  drives  and  not  at  all  desire.  Prince 
Ingram  hated  Brush  that  day  with  a  mortal 
hatred.  Only  two  days  more  of  Connie,  and  a 
few  thousand  silly  sheep  were  taking  him  away. 
Well,  he  had  paid  five  hundred  dollars  for  Ruby 
and  he  would  find  out  if  she  was  worth  it.  He 
used  his  spurs  so  sharply  that  the  high-spirited 
mare  snorted  angrily,  and  plunged  away  at  her 
most  furious  pace.     It  was  not  an  unpleasant 


ADVENTURING  329 

ride.  His  time  had  been  so  fully  occupied  with 
the  most  wonderful  girl,  that  he  had  not  had 
one  moment  to  think  how  really  wonderful  she 
was.    This  was  his  chance  and  he  utilized  it  fully. 

His  business  partner  in  Brush  was  shocked  at 
Prince's  lack  of  interest  in  a  matter  of  ten 
thousand  dollars.  He  wondered  if  perhaps  King 
Devil  had  not  bounced  him  up  more  than  people 
realized.  But  Prince  was  pliant,  far  more  so 
than  usual,  accepted  his  partner's  suggestions 
without  dissent,  and  grew  really  enthusiastic 
when  he  said  finally : 

"Well,  I  guess  that  is  all." 

Prince  shook  hands  with  him  then,  seeming 
almost  on  the  point  of  kissing  him,  and  Ruby 
was  whirling  down  the  road  in  a  chariot  of  dust 
before  the  bewildered  partner  had  time  to  explain 
that  his  wife  was  expecting  Prince  home  with 
them  for  dinner. 

Prince  fell  from  the  saddle  in  front  of  the 
Bijou  and  looked  expectantly  at  the  porch.  He 
was    sentimental   enough   to   think   it   must   be 


330  SUNNY  SLOPES 

splendid  to  have  a  girl  waiting  on  the  porch 
when  one  got  home  from  any  place.  Connie 
was  not  there.  Well,  it  was  a  good  thing,  he 
was  grimy  with  dust  and  perspiration,  and 
Connie  was  so  alarmingly  clean.  But  Carol 
called  him  before  he  had  time  to  escape. 

"Is  it  going  to  storm  ?"  she  asked  anxiously. 

Prince  wheeled  toward  her  sharply.  "Is  Connie 
out  in  the  car?" 

"Yes,"  said  Carol,  staring  off  down  the  road 
in  a  vain  hope  of  catching  sight  of  the  naughty 
little  runaway  in  the  gray  car. 

"When  did  she  go?"  he  asked. 

"About  eleven.  She  wasn't  coming  home  until 
after  dinner." 

"How  far  was  she  going?" 

"A  long  way,  she  said.  She  went  that  direc- 
tion," Carol  pointed  out  to  the  right. 

"Is  it  going  to  storm  ?"  asked  David,  coming  up. 

"Yes,  it  is.  But  don't  you  worry,  Mrs.  Duke. 
I'll  get  her  all  right.  If  it  turns  bad,  I  will  take 
her  to  some  little  village  or  farm-house  where 


ADVENTURING  331 

she  can  stay  till  morning.  We'll  be  all  right, 
and  don't  you  worry." 

There  was  something  very  assuring  in  the 
hearty  voice,  something  consoling  in  his  clear 
eyes  and  broad  shoulders.  Carol  followed  him 
out  to  his  horse. 

"Prince,"  she  said,  smiling  up  at  him,  "you 
will  get  her,  won't  you?" 

"Of  course  I  will.  You  aren't  worrying,  are 
you?" 

"Not  since  you  got  home,"  said  Carol.  "I 
know  you  will  get  her.    I  like  you,  Prince." 

"Do  you  ?"  He  was  boyishly  pleased.  "Does — 
does  David?" 

Carol  laughed.  "Yes,  and  so  does  Julia," 
she  teased. 

Prince  laughed,  too,  shamefacedly,  but  he  dared 
not  ask,  "Does  Connie?" 

He  turned  his  horse  quickly  and  paused  to  say, 
"You'd  better  get  your  husband  inside.  He  wilt 
chill  in  spite  of  the  rugs.  It  is  winter,  to-night. 
Good-bv." 


332  SUNNY  SLOPES 

"He  will  get  her,"  said  Carol  confidently,  when 
she  returned  to  David.  "He  is  nice,  don't  you 
think  so?  Maybe  he  would  be  perfectly  all  right 
— in  the  city.  Connie  could  straighten  him 
out." 

"Yes,  brush  off  the  dust,  and  give  him  an 
opera  hat  and  a  dinner  coat  and  he  would  not 
be  half  bad." 

"He  is  not  half  bad  now,  only — not  exactly 
our  kind." 

"Women  are  funny,"  said  David  slowly.  "I 
believe  Connie  likes  his  kind,  just  as  he  is,  and 
would  not  have  him  changed  for  anything." 

At  first,  Prince  had  no  difficulty  in  following 
the  wide  roll  of  Connie's  wheels,  for  no  other 
cars  had  gone  that  way.  But  once  or  twice  he 
had  to  drop  from  the  saddle  and  examine  the 
tracks  closely  to  make  sure  of  her.  Then  came 
the  snow,  and  the  tracks  were  blurred  out.  Prince 
was  in  despair. 

"Three  roads  here,"  he  thought  rapidly.  "If 
she  took  that  one   she  will  come  to   Marker's 


ADVENTURING  333 

ranch,  and  be  all  right.  If  she  took  the  middle 
road  she  will  make  Benton.  But  this  one,  it 
winds  and  twists,  and  never  gets  any  place." 

So  on  the  road  to  the  left,  that  led  to  no 
place  at  all,  Prince  carefully  guided  his  weary 
horse,  already  beginning  to  stumble.  He  sympa- 
thized with  every  aching  step,  yet  he  urged  her 
gently  to  her  best  speed.  Then  she  slipped, 
struggled  to  regain  her  footing,  struck  a  treach- 
erous bit  of  ice,  and  fell,  Prince  swinging  nimbly 
from  the  saddle.  Plainly  she  was  unable  to 
carry  him  farther,  so  he  helped  her  to  her  feet 
and  turned  her  loose,  pushing  on  as  fast  as  he 
could  on  foot. 

Anxiously  he  peered  into  the  gathering  dark- 
ness, longing  for  the  long  flash  of  yellow  light 
which  meant  Connie  and  the  matchless  Harmer. 

Suddenly  he  stopped.  From  away  over  the 
hills  to  his  right,  mingling  with  the  call  of  the 
coyotes,  came  the  unmistakable  honk  of  a  siren. 
He  held  his  breath  to  listen.  It  came  again,  a 
long  continued  wail,   in  perfect  tune  with  the 


334  SUNNY  SLOPES 

whining  of  the  coyotes.  He  turned  to  the  right 
and  started  over  the  hills  in  the  wake  of  the  call. 

Over  a  steep  incline  he  plunged,  and  paused. 

"Thank  God,"  he  cried  aloud,  for  there  he 
saw  a  little  round  yellow  glow  in  the  cloudy 
white  mist, — the  Harmer  Six,  and  Connie. 

He  shouted  as  he  ran,  that  she  might  not  be 
left  in  suspense  a  moment  longer  than  need  be. 
And  Connie  with  numbed  fingers  tugged  the 
curtains  loose  and  leaned  out  in  the  yellow 
mist  to  watch  him  as  he  came. 

We  talk  of  the  mountain  peaks  of  life.  And 
poets  sing  of  the  snowy  crest  of  life  crises, 
where  we  look  like  angels  and  speak  like  gods, 
where  we  live  on  the  summit  of  ages.  This 
moment  should  have  been  a  summit,  yet  when 
Prince  ran  down  the  hill,  breathless,  exultant, 
and  nearly  exhausted,  Connie,  her  face  showing 
peaked  and  white  in  the  yellow  glare,  cried, 
"Hello,  Prince,  I  knew  you'd  make  it." 

She  held  out  a  half-frozen  hand  and  he  took 
it  in  his. 


ADVENTURING  335 

"Car's  busted,"  she  said  laconically.  "Won't 
budge.    I  drained  the  water  out  of  the  radiator." 

"All  right,  we'll  have  to  hoof,  it,"  he  said 
cheerfully. 

He  relieved  her  of  the  heavier  wraps,  and 
they  set  out  silently  through  the  snow,  Prince 
still  holding  her  hand. 

"I  am  awfully  glad  to  see  you,"  she  said 
once,  in  a  polite  little  voice. 

He  smiled  down  upon  her.  "I  am  kind  o'  glad 
to  see  you,  too,  Connie." 

After  a  while  she  said  slowly,  "I  need  wings. 
My  feet  are  numb."  And  a  moment  later,  "I 
can  not  walk  any  farther." 

"It  is  ten  miles  to  a  house,"  he  told  her 
gravely.  "I  couldn't  carry  you  so  far.  I'll  take 
you  a  mile  or  so,  and  you  will  get  rested." 

"I  am  not  tired,  I  am  cold.  And  if  you  carry 
me  I  will  be  colder.  You  just  run  along  and 
tell  Carol  I  am  all  right—" 

"Run  along!  Why,  you  would   freeze." 

"Yes,  that  is  what  I  mean." 


336  SUNNY  SLOPES 

"There  is  a  railroad  track  half  a  mile  over 
there.     Can  you  make  that?" 

Connie  looked  at  him  pitifully.  "I  can  not 
even  lift  my  feet.  I  am  utterly  stuck.  I  kept 
stepping  along,"  she  mumbled  indistinctly,  "and 
saying,  one  more, — just  one  more, — one  more, — 
but  the  foot  would  not  come  up, — and  I  knew  I 
was  stuck." 

Her  voice  trailed  away,  and  she  bundled 
against  him  and  closed  her  eyes. 

Prince  gritted  his  teeth  and  took  her  in  his 
arms.  Connie  was  five  feet  seven,  and  very 
solid.  And  Prince  himself  was  nearly  exhausted 
with  the  day's  exertion.  Sometimes  he  staggered 
and  fell  to  his  knees,  sometimes  he  hardly  knew 
if  he  was  dragging  Connie  or  pushing  her,  or  if 
they  were  both  blown  along  by  the  wind.  Always 
there  was  the  choke  in  his  throat,  the  blur  in  his 
eyes,  and  that  almost  unbearable  drag  in  every 
muscle.  A  freight  train  passed — only  a  few 
rods  away.  He  thought  he  could  never  climb 
that  bank.  "One  more — one — more — one  more," 
mumbled  Connie  in  his  ear. 


ADVENTURING  337 

He  shook  himself  angrily.  Of  course  he 
could  make  that  bank, — if  he  could  only  rest  a 
minute, — he  was  not  cold,' — just  a  minute's  rest 
to  get  his  breath  again — a  moment  would  be 
enough.  God,  what  was  he  thinking  of?  It  was 
not  weariness,  it  was  the  chill  of  the  night  that 
demanded  a  moment's  rest.  He  strained  Connie 
closer  in  his  arms  and  struggled  up  the  bank. 

At  the  top,  he  dropped  her  beside  the  track, 
and  fell  with  her.  For  a  moment  the  fatal 
languor  possessed  him. 

A  freight  train  rounded  the  curve  and  came 
puffing  toward  them.  Prince,  roused  by  spring- 
ing hope,  clambered  to  his  feet,  pulling  the  little 
pocket  flash  from  his  pocket.  He  waved  it  im- 
ploringly at  the  train,  but  it  thundered  by  them. 

Resolutely  bestirring  himself,  he  carried 
Connie  to  a  sheltered  place  where  the  wind  could 
not  strike  her,  and  wrapped  her  as  best  he  could 
in  his  coat  and  sweater.  Then,  lowering  his 
head  against  the  driving  wind,  he  plunged  down 
the  track  in  the  face  of  the  storm. 


CHAPTER  XXII 
Harborage 

LESS  than  a  mile  down  the  track,  Prince  came 
to  the  tiny  signal  house  for  which  he  had 
been  looking.  The  door  was  locked,  and  so  numb 
and  clumsy  were  his  fingers  that  he  found  it 
hard  to  force  it  open.  Once  on  the  inside,  he 
felt  that  the  struggle  was  nearly  over.  This 
was  the  end.  Using  the  railway's  private  phone, 
he  astonished  the  telegraph  operator  in  Fort 
Morgan  by  cutting  in  on  him  and  asking  him  to 
run  across  to  the  nearest  garage  with  a  call  for 
a  service  car. 

For  a  long  moment  the  operator  was  speech- 
less. Did  you  ever  hear  of  insolence  like  that? 
He  told  Prince  to  get  off  that  wire  and  keep  his 
hands  away  from  railway  property  or  he  would 
land  in  the  pen.    Then  he  went  back  to  his  work. 

338  * 


HARBORAGE  339 

But  Prince  cut  in  on  him  again.  Finally  the 
operator  referred  him  to  the  station  master  and 
gave  him  the  connection.  But  the  station  master 
refused  to  meddle  with  any  such  irregular  busi- 
ness. This  was  against  the  law,  and  station 
masters  are  strong  for  law  and  order.  But 
Prince  was  persistent.  At  last,  in  despair,  they 
connected  him  with  the  district  superintendent. 

"Who  in  thunder  are  you,  and  what  do  you 
want?"  asked  the  superintendent  in  no  gentle 
voice. 

"I  want  some  of  those  sap-heads  of  yours 
in  Fort  Morgan  to  take  a  message  to  the  garage, 
and  they  won't  do  it,"  yelled  Prince. 

"Say,  what  do  you  think  this  is?  A  philan- 
thropic messenger  service?"  ejaculated  the 
superintendent. 

"I  haven't  got  time  to  talk,"  cried  Prince. 
"I've  got  to  get  at  a  garage,  and  quickly." 

"Well,  we  don't  run  a  garage." 

"Shut  up  a  minute  and  listen,  will  you  ?  There 
is  a  woman  out  here  on  the  track,  half  frozen, 


340  SUNNY  SLOPES 

We  are  twenty  miles  from  a  house.  Will  you 
send  that  message  or  not?  The  woman  can't 
live  two  hours." 

"Well,  why  didn't  you  tell  what  was  the 
matter?  I  will  connect  you  with  the  operator 
at  Fort  Morgan  and  tell  him  to  do  whatever  you 
say.  You  stay  on  the  wire  until  he  reports  they 
have  a  car  started." 

So  Prince  was  flung  back  to  the  operator  at 
Fort  Morgan,  and  that  high-souled  scion  of  the 
railway  was  sent  out  like  a  common  delivery 
boy  to  take  a  message.  Prince  waited  in  an 
agony  of  suspense  for  the  report  from  the 
garage.  It  was  not  favorable.  No  man  in 
town  would  go  out  on  a  wild  goose  chase  into 
the  plains  on  a  night  like  that.  Awfully  sorry, 
nothing  doing. 

"Take  a  gun  and  make  them  come,"  said 
Prince,  between  set  teeth. 

"I'm  not  looking  for  trouble.  Your  woman 
would  freeze  before  they  got  there  anyhow." 

"Send  the  sheriff,"  begged  Prince. 


HARBORAGE  341 

"He  couldn't  get  out  there  a  night  like  this  in 
time  to  do  you  any  good." 

This  was  literally  true.  For  a  second  Prince 
was  silent. 

"Anything  else?,,  asked  the  operator.  "Want 
me  to  run  out  and  get  you  a  cigar,  or  a  bottle  of 
perfume,  or  anything?" 

"Then  there  is  just  one  thing  to  do,"  said 
Prince  abruptly.  "I'll  have  to  flag  the  first  train 
and  get  her  aboard." 

"What!  You  can't  do  it.  You  don't  dare  do 
it.  It  is  against  the  law  to  flag  a  train  on 
private  business." 

"I  know  it.  So  I  am  asking  you  to  make  it 
the  railroad's  business.  I  am  warning  you  in 
advance.     Where  are  the  fuses?" 

The  operator  helplessly  called  up  the  superin- 
tendent once  more. 

"What  the  dickens  do  you  want  now?" 

"It's  that  nut  on  the  line,"  explained  the 
operator.    "He  wants  something  else." 

"Yes,  I  want  to  know  where  the  fuses  are  so 


342  SUNNY  SLOPES 

I  can  flag  the  first  train  that  comes.  Or  I  will 
just  set  the  tool  house  afire;  that  will  stop 
them." 

"The  fuses  are  in  the  lock  box  under  the 
phone.  Break  the  lock,  or  pick  it.  Let  us  know 
if  you  get  in  all  right.  How  the  dickens  did  you 
get  a  woman  out  there  a  night  like  this?" 

But  Prince  had  no  time  to  explain.  "Thanks, 
old  man,  you're  pretty  white,"  he  said,  and 
clasped  the  receiver  on  to  the  hook.  A  little  later, 
with  the  precious  fuses  in  his  pocket,  he  was 
fighting  his  way  through  the  snow  back  to 
Connie,  lying  unconscious  in  the  white  blankets 
which  no  longer  chilled  her. 

The  waiting  seemed  endlessly  weary.  Prince 
dared  not  sit  down,  but  must  needs  keep  stagger- 
ing up  and  down  the  track,  praying  as  he  had 
never  prayed  in  all  his  life,  that  God  would  send 
a  train  before  Connie  should  freeze  to  death. 
Stooping  over  her,  he  chafed  her  hands  and 
ankles,  shaking  her  roughly,  but  never  succeeding 
in  restoring  her  to  consciousness  though  doubt- 


HARBORAGE  343 

less  he  did  much  toward  keeping  the  blood  in 
feeble  circulation. 

Then,  thank  God!  No  heavenly  star  ever 
shone  half  so  gloriously  bright  as  that  wide 
sweep  of  light  that  circled  around  the  ragged 
rocks.  Prince  hastily  fired  the  fuse,  and  a  few 
minutes  later  a  lumbering  freight  train  pulled 
up  beside  him,  anxious  voices  calling  inquiry. 

With  rough  but  willing  hands  they  pulled  the 
girl  on  board,  and  piled  heavy  coats  on  a  bench 
beside  the  fire  where  she  might  lie,  and  brought 
out  some  hot  coffee  which  Prince  swallowed  in 
deep  gulps.  They  even  forced  a  few  drops  of  it 
down  Connie's  throat.  Prince  was  soon  himself 
again,  and  sat  silently  beside  Connie  as  she  slept 
the  heavy  sleep. 

A  long  lumbering  ride  it  was,  the  cars  creak- 
ing and  rocking,  reeling  from  side  to  side  as  if 
they  too  were  drunk  with  weariness  and  cold. 

At  last  Connie  moved  a  little  and  lifted  her 
lashes.  She  lay  very  still  a  while,  looking  with 
puzzled  eyes  at  her  strange  surroundings,  enjoy- 


344  SUNNY  SLOPES 

ing  the  huge  fire,  wondering  at  that  curious  rock- 
ing. Then,  glancing  at  the  big  brown  head 
beside  her,  where  Prince  sat  on  an  overturned 
bucket  with  her  hand  in  his,  she  closed  her  eyes 
again,  still 'puzzled,  but  content. 

Long  minutes  afterward  she  spoke. 

"Are  you  cold,  Prince  ?" 

He  tightened  his  clasp  on  her  hand. 

"No." 

"How  did  you  ever  make  it?" 

"The  train  came  along  and  we  got  on.  Now 
we  are  thawing  out,"  he  explained,  smiling  re- 
assurance. 

"I  do  not  remember  it.  I  only  remember  that 
I  was  stuck  in  the  snow,  and  that  you  did  not 
leave  me." 

"Here  comes  some  more  coffee,  lady,"  said  the 
brakeman,  coming  up.  Connie  drank  it  grate- 
fully and  sat  up. 

"Where  are  we  going?" 

"To  Fort  Morgan." 

"Want    any    more    blankets    or    anything?" 


HARBORAGE  345 

asked  the  brakeman  kindly.  "Are  you  getting 
warm?" 

"Too  warm,  I  will  have  to  move  a  little." 

Prince  helped  her  gently  farther  from  the 
roaring  flames,  and  again  pulled  his  bucket  close 
to  her  side.  He  placed  his  hand  in  her  lap  and 
Connie  wriggled  her  fingers  into  his. 

Suddenly  she  leaned  forward  and  looked  into 
his  face,  noting  the  steady  steely  eyes,  the 
square  strong  chin,  the  boyish  mouth.  Not  a 
handsome  face,  like  Jerry's,  not  fine  and  pure, 
like  David's, — but  strong  and  kind,  a  face  that 
somehow  spoke  wistfully  of  deep  needs  and 
secret  longings.  Suddenly  Connie  felt  that  she 
was  very  happy,  and  in  the  same  instant  dis- 
covered that  her  eyes  were  wet.     She  smiled. 

"Connie,"  whispered  the  big  brown  man,  "are 
we  going  to  get  married,  sometime?" 

"Yes,"  she  whispered  promptly,  "sometime. 
If  you  want  me." 

His  hands  closed  convulsively  over  hers. 

"Make  it  soon,"  he  begged.  "It  is  terribly 
lonesome." 


346  SUNNY  SLOPES 

"Two  years,"  she  suggested,  wrinkling  her 
brows.  "But  if  it  is  too  lonesome,  we  will  make 
it  one." 

"You  won't  go  away."  Prince  was  aghast  at 
the  thought. 

"I  have  to,"  she  told  him,  caressing  his  hand 
with  her  fingers.  "You  know  I  believe  I  have 
a  talent,  and  it  says  in  the  Bible  if  you  do  not 
use  what  is  given  you,  all  the  other  nice  things 
you  have  may  be  taken  away.  So  if  I  don't 
use  that  talent,  I  may  lose  it  and  you  into 
the  bargain." 

Prince  did  not  understand  that,  but  it  sounded 
reasonable.  Whatever  Connie  said,  of  course. 
She  had  a  talent,  all  right,  a  dozen, — a  hundred 
of  them.  He  thought  she  had  a  monopoly  on 
talents. 

"I  will  go  back  a  while  and  study  and  work 
and  get  ready  to  use  the  talent.  I  have  to 
finish  getting  ready  first.  Then  I  will  come  and 
live  with  you  and  you  can  help  me  use  it.  You 
won't  mind,  will  you?" 


HARBORAGE  347 

"I  want  you  to  use  it,"  he  said.  "I'm  proud 
of  it.  I  will  take  you  wherever  you  wish  to  go, 
I  will  do  whatever  you  want.  I'll  get  a  home 
in  Denver,  and  just  manage  the  business  from 
the  outside.  I  can  live  the  way  you  like  to 
live  and  do  the  things  you  like  to  have  done; 
Connie,  I  know  I  can." 

Connie  reached  slowly  for  her  hand-bag. 
From  it  she  took  a  tiny  note-book  and  tossed 
it  in  the  fire. 

"Literary  material,"  she  explained,  smiling  at 
him.  "I  can  not  write  what  I  have  learned  in 
Fort  Morgan.    I  can  only  live  it." 


CHAPTER  XXIII 
The  Sunny  Slope 

AFTER  Connie's  visit,  when  she  had  re- 
turned to  Chicago  to  finish  learning  how 
to  write  her  knowledge,  David  and  Carol  with 
little  Julia  settled  down  in  the  cottage  among  the 
pines,  and  the  winter  came  and  the  mountains 
were  huge  white  monuments  over  the  last  sum- 
mer that  had  died.  Later  in  the  winter  a  nurse 
came  in  to  take  charge  of  the  little  family,  and 
although  Carol  was  afraid  of  her,  she  obeyed 
with  childish  confidence  whenever  the  nurse  gave 
directions. 

"I  feel  fine  to-day,"  David  said  to  her  one 
morning.  "I  think  when  spring  comes  I  shall 
be  stronger  again.  It  is  a  good  thing  to  be 
alive." 

He  glanced  through  the  window  and  looked 

348 


THE  SUNNY  SLOPE  349 

at  Carol,  buttoning  Julia's  gaiters  for  the  fifth 
time  that  morning. 

"It  is  a  pretty  nice  world  to  most  of  us,"  said 
the  nurse. 

"We  each  have  a  world  of  our  own,  I  guess. 
Mine  is  Carol  and  Julia  now.  I  have  no  grouch 
at  life,  and  I  register  no  complaint  against  cir- 
cumstances, but  I  should  be  glad  to  live  in  my 
little  world  a  long,  long  time." 

One  morning  when  spring  had  come,  when 
the  white  monuments  melted  and  drifted  away 
with  the  clouds,  and  when  the  shadowy  canyons 
and  the  yellow  rocky  peaks  stood  out  bare  and 
bright,  David  called  her  to  him. 

"Look,"  he  said,  "the  same  old  sunny  slope. 
We  have  been  climbing  it  four  years  now,  a 
long  climb,  sometimes  pretty  rough  and  rugged 
for  you." 

"It  was  not,  David, — never,"  she  protested 
quickly.  "It  was  always  a  clear  bright  path. 
And  we've  been  finding  things  to  laugh  at  all 
the  way." 


350  SUNNY  SLOPES 

He  pulled  her  into  his  arm  beside  him  on  the 
bed.  "We  are  going  to  the  top  of  the  sunny 
slope  together.  Look  at  the  mountain  there. 
We  are  going  up  one  of  those  sunny  ridges,  and 
sometime,  after  a  while,  we  will  stand  at  the 
top,  right  on  the  summit,  with  the  sky  above 
and  the  valleys  below." 

She  nodded  her  head,  smiling  at  him  bravely. 

"I  think  it  is  probably  very  near  to  Heaven," 
he  said  slowly,  in  a  dreamy  voice.  "I  think  it 
must  be.  It  is  so  intensely  bright, — see  how  it 
cuts  into  the  blue.  Yes,  it  must  be  right  at  the 
gates  of  Heaven.  We  will  stand  right  there 
together,  won't  we?" 

"David,"  she  whispered. 

"This  is  what  I  want  to  say.  After  that, 
there  will  be  another  way  for  you  to  go,  on  the 
other  side.  Look  at  the  mountains,  dear.  See, 
there  are  other  peaks  beyond,  with  alternating 
slopes  of  sunshine  and  canyons  of  shadow.  It 
is   much   easier   to   stick   to   the   sunny   slopes 


THE  SUNNY  SLOPE  351 

when  there  are  two  together.  It  is  very  easy 
to  stagger  off  into  the  shadows,  when  one 
has  to  travel  alone.  But,  Carol,  don't  you  go 
into  the  shadows.  I  want  to  think  always  that 
you  are  staying  in  the  sunshine,  on  the  slopes, 
where  it  is  bright,  where  Julia  can  laugh  and 
play,  where  you  can  sing  and  listen  to  the  birds. 
Stick  to  the  sunny  slopes,  dear,  even  when  you 
are  climbing  alone.,, 

Carol  nodded  her  head  in  affirmation,  though 
her  face  was  hidden. 

"I  will,  David.  I  will  run  right  out  of  the 
shadows  and  find  the  sunny  slopes." 

"And  do  not  try  to  live  by,  'what  would 
David  like?'  Be  happy,  dear.  Follow  the  sun- 
shine. I  think  it  guides  us  truly,  for  a  pure 
kind  heart  can  not  mistake  fleeting  gaiety  for 
lasting  joys  like  you  and  I  have  had.  So 
wherever  your  journey  of  joy  may  take  you, 
follow  it  and  be  assured  that  I  am  smiling  at 
you  in  the  sunshine." 


352  SUNNY  SLOPES 

Carol  stayed  with  him  after  that,  sitting  very 
quietly,  speaking  softly,  in  the  subdued  way  that 
had  developed  from  her  youthful  buoyance, 
always  quick  to  smile  reassuringly  and  adoringly 
when  he  looked  at  her,  always  ready  to  look  hope- 
fully to  the  sunny  slopes  when  his  finger  pointed. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 
The  End 

IN  a  low  hammock  beneath  the  maples  Carol 
lay,  pale  and  slender,  dressed  in  a  soft  gown 
of  creamy  white,  with  a  pink  rose  at  her  belt. 
Through  an  open  window  she  could  see  her 
father  at  his  desk  up-stairs.  Often  he  came  to 
the  window,  waving  a  friendly  greeting  that 
told  how  glad  he  was  to  have  her  in  the  family 
home  again.  And  she  could  see  Aunt  Grace 
in  the  kitchen,  energetically  whipping  cream  for 
the  apple  pie  for  dinner — "Carol  always  did 
love  apple  pie  with  whipped  cream."  Julia  was 
digging  a  canal  through  the  flower  bed  a  dozen 
steps  away.  And  close  at  her  side  sat  Lark, 
the  sweet,  old,  precious  twin,  who  could  not 
attend  to  the  farm  a  single  minute  now  that 
Carol  was  at  home  once  more. 

353 


354  SUNNY  SLOPES 

Carol's  hands  were  clasped  under  her  head, 
and  she  was  staring  up  through  the  trees  at 
the  clear  blue  sky,  flecked  like  a  sea  with  bits 
of  foam. 

"Mother,"  cried  Julia,  running  to  the  ham- 
mock and  sweeping  wildly  at  the  sky  with  a 
knife  she  was  using  for  a  spade,  "I  looked  right 
up  into  Heaven  and  I  saw  my  daddy,  and  he 
did  not  cough  a  bit.  He  smiled  at  me  and  said, 
'Hello,  little  sweetheart.  Take  good  care  of 
Mother/  " 

Carol  kissed  her,  softly,  regardless  of  the 
streaks  of  earth  upon  her  chubby  face. 

"Mother,"  puzzled  Julia,  "what  is  it  to  be 
died?  I  can't  think  it.  And  I  lie  down  and  I 
can't  do  it.    What  is  it  to  be  died?" 

"Death,  Julia,  you  mean  death.  I  think,  dear, 
it  is  life, — life  that  is  all  made  straight;  life 
where  one  can  work  and  never  be  laid  aside  for 
illness;  life  where  one  can  love,  and  fear  no 
separation;  life  where  one  can  do  the  big  things 
he   yearned    to    do,    and    be   the   big   man   he 


THE  END  355 

yearned  to  be  with  no  hindrance  of  little  petty- 
things.  I  think  that  death  is  life,  the  happy 
life." 

Julia,  satisfied,  returned  to  her  canal,  and 
Lark,  with  throbbing  pity,  patted  Carol's  arm. 

"Do  you  know,  Larkie,  I  think  that  death  is 
life  on  the  top  of  a  sunny  slope,  clear  up  on 
the  peak  where  it  touches  the  sky.  Such  a  big 
sunny  slope  that  the  canyons  of  shadow  are 
miles  and  miles  away,  out  of  sight  entirely.  I 
believe  that  David  is  living  right  along  on  the 
top  of  a  sunny  slope." 

Her  father  stepped  to  the  window  and  tapped 
on  the  pane,  waving  down  to  them.  "I  can't 
keep  away  from  this  window,"  he  called. 
"Whenever  you  twins  get  together  I  think  I 
have  to  watch  you  just  as  I  used  to  when  you 
were  mobbing  the  parsonage." 

The  twins  laughed,  and  when  he  went  back 
to  his  desk  they  turned  to  each  other  with  eyes 
that  plainly  said,  "Isn't  he  the  grandest  father 
that  ever  lived?" 


356  SUNNY  SLOPES 

Then  Carol  folded  her  hands  behind  her  head 
again  and  looked  dreamily  up  through  the 
leafy  maples,  seeing  the  broad  mesa  stretching 
off  miles  away  to  the  mountains,  where  the  dark 
canyons  underlined  the  sunny  slopes. 

THE  END 


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